My Vietnam
by klepto-maniac0
Summary: AU. Standalone sequel to PYLO/Put Your Lights On. Sephiroth's daughter navigates a world without him around; physically around, that is. Bonus chapter posted.
1. Prologue

My Vietnam

26 May 2014

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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

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Rufus Shin-Ra was known the world over for wearing white suits with black accents. Always. But for Sephiroth's funeral, he bent his rule and appeared before the world attired in somber funereal black from head to toe, never mind that it made him look washed out.

After all, Toriko Shin-Ra, Sephiroth's daughter, was far more bloodless at the funeral.

Rufus stayed close to his "niece" in the week after Sephiroth's death and up to the funeral. She didn't say much after President Shin-Ra had told her what happened. Rufus found Toriko staring out of the window most days, but unlike in the weeks before her father's disappearance, there was no annoyance or quiet hurt.

Just...nothing. Like she wasn't even there.

Rufus, Dark Nation, and Rufus's butler Malcolm made sure Toriko ate, slept, and otherwise kept herself in good shape. Her general listnessness was so complete that Rufus briefly considered checking her into a facility, but she didn't try to hurt herself and she wasn't completely closed off. Toriko was simply and very deeply shocked. Who could blame her? Sephiroth was—well, had been—the most powerful man in the world. And dying in an AVALANCHE ambush was not the way anyone had thought he would go.

(He hadn't actually died that way, but President Shin-Ra seemed determined to keep the details of Sephiroth's death to himself. That piqued Rufus's interest and not just because it would give Toriko some badly-needed answers.)

It was a closed-coffin funeral, ostensibly out of respect for Sephiroth and his legendary desire for privacy. Only Rufus, the President, Toriko, and the Executives knew there was nothing in the black-lacquered coffin. To deter crazed fans and necrophiliacs, the empty coffin would later be cremated and Toriko would scatter the ashes on the wind. Now, however, the coffin was covered in flowers. Mostly white with deep green leaves; peonies, lilies, and huge fat-headed mums predominated. In contrast, Sephiroth's fellow SOLDIERS and other members of the army had brought yellow flowers of every shape and size and _those_ covered the walls of the reception hall. A solid block around the hall, mourners carried whatever flower "suited Sephiroth" the best, with some Silver Elite members actually carrying bouquets of literal steel roses.

The ceremony was appropriately long. President Shin-Ra talked throughout most of it, spinning a convincing narrative about how Sephiroth was an orphaned child, adopted by the President himself for his exemplary service in the War. He waxed poetic about how Sephiroth's discipline and strength were an inspiration, but his loyalty to his countrymen and his family trumped all. He even managed to spin something positive out of the most embarrassing moment of Sephiroth's public life, the day he'd announced the existence of his illegitimate daughter out of the blue. Rufus had to give it to the Old Man, he was a great public speaker. He had the audience nodding along, crying, and even chuckling quietly when appropriate. He made Sephiroth sound like a whole person.

Rufus knew better. Every Executive did, but none of them would ever tell anyone about Sephiroth's temper. About his overwhelming, sometimes inappropriate pride. About how the threat of violence always simmered under his stoic surface, except when Toriko was around. And Rufus himself knew that when Sephiroth got very angry, he would hit and choke Toriko, blinded by the wildness of his immature emotions.

It was just as well that the Old Man had sent him away from Midgar, though the reason why he'd done so was...less than appropriate.

Rufus kept his eyes on President Shin-Ra and his arm tightly around Toriko's shoulders. She was not at ease around President Shin-Ra ever since he'd raped her in his office. That was why Sephiroth had been ordered away. He'd lost his temper and attacked the President, but rather than make a spectacle of him, the President had given Sephiroth to Hojo to study for a while and then sent him out on assignment. He probably had some idea of getting Toriko again, but Rufus hadn't given him the opportunity, taking Toriko into his house and rarely leaving her alone. The Old Man hadn't said anything about this yet, but Rufus didn't expect him to. The Old Man could be very patient...

The ceremony took about an hour. All the Executives spoke about Sephiroth, and at the very end, Toriko herself stood at the podium. She had a speech, a rather poignant one that Rufus had seen on the kitchen table. She didn't stick to it at all.

"I didn't know my father until I was eleven years old," she said. "But he's been part of me my entire life. And I know he's with me now. I'm sad, because I know I won't be able to see him for a very long time. But I'm not going to despair, because Father wouldn't want that. Three years wasn't enough to know everything he was, but I hope that in the years to come, I won't disappoint him.

"To everyone who loved him, supported him, respected him, thank you. Your regard for him shaped him as much as he shaped you; he became a hero for your sake. All I ask is that you become people who I'm not ashamed to say that he died for."

At any other time that last sentence would have sounded combative, but Toriko spoke so softly and her gray-green eyes were so shadowed that no one could ever think that she was anything other than griefsticken. Her speech was easily the shortest, but it nevertheless ended the ceremony. Cameras from every station broadcasting all over the world had captured every moment.

Members of SOLDIER lined the path to the crematorium, and the road before the funeral procession was thick with white flower petals. It was about a quarter of a mile long, but every foot was packed with mourners. Rufus had no idea why. Most of these people had never met Sephiroth, but for some reason they felt a connection to the man. Maybe he'd saved the life of a loved one. Maybe he inspired them somehow. There were just so many people who were sad that Sephiroth was dead.

Privately Rufus wondered if his own funeral would look anything like this, then put the thought out of his mind. He was planning to live for a damn long time.

Members of Sephiroth's preferred squad, the Seventh, carried the coffin. Toriko walked behind them, spinning a tarnished silver ring on her finger. It had used to belong to Sephiroth and according to the mythos of Toriko's birth, he'd given it to her Wutaiese mother. Upon her death, she'd given it to Toriko and that was how Sephiroth had recognized her when she'd first come to Midgar. The truth was decided more murky, but long story short, the Touph Ring was one of the few things that Toriko had left of her father. In the days since his death, she'd taken to spinning it almost neurotically. Rufus half-worried that she'd wear the skin off her finger, but most of the time she didn't even seem to realize she was doing it.

The coffin burned, the church bells all over the city rang, and that evening Rufus and Toriko went back to her home. She'd been there sporadically since Sephiroth had originally left five weeks ago to pack clothes and things, but now...

"You can stay with me for as long as you like," said Rufus to Toriko as they entered. The breath seemed to rush out of her as soon as she stepped into the apartment, which like Rufus's was a penthouse. Rufus had only been to Sephiroth's apartment once in all their association, but he was surprised at the difference between then and now. Back then, Sephiroth had basically still been a bachelor, with Toriko in his life less than a day, and his décor had reflected that—plain furniture, no cushions or any color aside from black leather. But now that he'd been sharing his space for three years, it looked markedly different. A very soft throw blanket of a deep red material was folded up on the back of the black leather couch, draping over cream-colored pillows in the corners. There was a plush area rug on the floor, no doubt because Toriko always took off her shoes indoors and liked to walk on something soft. And there were plants on the balcony outside, as well as a place to sit. Sephiroth always hated the noise of city traffic and would never go out if he could help it; again, the sitting place had to be for Toriko.

"Thank you, but no," said Toriko, sounding very tired. "You should go home, Rufus."

"I'd rather not leave you alone," he said, folding his arms.

"Then leave a Turk. Or Dark Nation." She looked at him and smiled faintly, saying, "I won't do anything stupid to myself. But right now, I just... I really do want to be alone."

"For how long?"

"I don't know."

"I'm not comfortable with that, Toriko."

"I told you, I'll be fine."

"You forgot to eat every day for the past week unless someone reminded you," said Rufus. As Toriko sighed, he said, "I'm not going to have you wasting away. If you want to sleep here tonight, fine. But I'll stay here too."

"We don't have a guest bedroom, Rufus."

Rufus was almost surprised before he remembered that Sephiroth never, ever entertained visitors at his house. Toriko was not likely to sleep in Sephiroth's bed, but she would definitely take it amiss if he slept there.

"I'll sleep on the couch," said Rufus. When Toriko raised her brows, he said, "It'll be like college all over again."

"You really don't have to do this," said Toriko a bit more firmly.

"I disagree."

"...Suit yourself," said Toriko, rolling her eyes. It was a relief to see something other than depression on her face. "I'm going straight to bed."

"Eat something first."

"Ugh, fine."

Rufus had been cared for his entire life by various servants and what, so he'd never actually seen anyone cook. Though she looked and moved like she was exhausted, Toriko still made a simple omelette of eggs and cream and covered the whole thing with thin slices of cheese. It was large. They split it. It definitely wasn't gourmet cooking, but having watched Toriko make the thing gave the omelette a special sort of flavor that Rufus couldn't put his finger on.

It was only when he realized that Sephiroth and Toriko had done this for each other every day that he could name the feeling; envy. Rufus's parents had never cooked him anything or spent more time with him than they had to.

"Now I'm going to bed," Toriko said. "Actually, I'm going to take a shower and then go to bed. There's a second full bath upstairs if you need something."

"You have a second full bath but no guest bedroom?"

"Upstairs is Father's study and... Well," she chuckled humorlessly. "You can go upstairs and look yourself."

How enigmatic. As Toriko walked off to bathe, Rufus took her invitation and went upstairs. The only way up was a black wrought-iron spiral staircase that seemed both ostentatious and yet perfectly suited to Sephiroth's style.

" _'Over the top' seems to be the theme of the day,"_ thought Rufus as he walked up into Sephiroth's study. Perhaps all the flowers and the petal-strewn walkway to the crematorium weren't quite so far from Sephiroth's tastes after all. Downstairs was full of light and plainly decorated, but the study had an peculiarly low ceiling and a distinctly old world feel to it. Actually, despite being a second floor, it felt rather like a basement. The closed-in feeling came from the use of lots of dark wood, a paneled ceiling, and very thick, soft, dark red carpet covering the entire floor. Bookshelves lined every wall, stuffed with books that Rufus had no idea Sephiroth had ever read, let alone known about. But one wall was less packed. Rufus walked over to it and saw with a slight pang that it was full of awards from Toriko's school. Perfect attendance, honor roll, especially praised pieces of homework...

Sephiroth's desk up here was just as neatly organized as the one in his building office, which was no doubt being reshuffled for Heidegger's tastes. Rufus flipped idly through the papers, nothing catching his eye. He looked at some of the books on the shelves.

"_Military strategy... Swordsmanship... Swordsmanship and philosophy... More philosophy... Sephiroth appears to be a fan of the Stoics, no surprise there..."_

Among all the nonfiction was a brand new copy of Loveless. Bemused, Rufus pulled it out and flipped it open.

"Let's talk sometime," said the handwritten note on the inner cover. "I miss you. G."

That was suggestive. Rufus flipped through the rest of the book, but there was nothing more incriminating than that. Of greater interest was that Sephiroth hadn't even cracked the spine and the glue was quite old; apparently he'd never read the thing. Poor G, thought Rufus cynically, giving the ultimate romantic play to someone who was loveless indeed.

Toriko's comment about "see for yourself" and Rufus's question about the guest bedroom were soon answered. What _should_ have been a guest bedroom was instead an armory/trophy room, with arms and armor from fallen enemies arranged alongside weapons Sephiroth had used himself. The Masamune was missing of course, but there were a variety of other Wutaiese weapons, Continental weapons, and a whole wall of high-level materia. There was even a chest of rare elixirs, hi-ethers, and other potions that were lifesavers on the battlefield. Was it general paranoia that had Sephiroth better prepared than the Midgar Garrison? Or something more sinister?

Gradually Rufus admitted to himself that it was creepy and invasive to be looking around a dead man's office, so he went downstairs. Toriko was still in the shower. He did not keen his ears for any sobbing. Instead Rufus sat down on the couch, opened up Loveless, and started reading. He was a third of the way through the first act when Toriko came out. She'd changed into soft pajamas, but instead of typical buttoned flannel she was wearing what looked like a long, clinging jersy tunic.

"Here," she said, giving him a blanket and a real pillow.

"Looks like you're prepared for guests after all," said Rufus, taking them from her.

"I sleep with three blankets," said Toriko. "I can do with two tonight."

"Three?"

"It's just comfortable that way. I like when things are soft. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," said Rufus. It was only 9pm and normally he'd be awake for five more hours, but he stifled a yawn as Toriko left. The day had started early and just kept going, with precious little time to rest, eat, or even sit down. Rufus settled the couch the way he wanted and then went back to reading. He got another third of an act down before before sleepiness finally won out, which seemed to hit him harder than normal.

An hour later Toriko came out into the living room, green-gray eyes shining in the darkness. There was no trace of the griefstricken girl right now...

...only someone filled with purpose.

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a/n: Welcome to the fic. Hopefully this hit all the pertinent high points. For more background on Toriko and the preceding events that were discussed in this prologue, Chapters 7, 19, 79, 103, and 105 of PYLO would be good reading.

For those of you who have read PYLO, I hope the double-meanings and the way Toriko is acting made you cackle :P

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	2. Daddy was a SOLDIER

My Vietnam

26 May 2014

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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

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_Daddy was a soldier_

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Finally, hours of sending _"sleep, sleep" _into Rufus's head proved effective. Stupid chronic insomnia. Toriko appreciated Rufus's concern, but right now it was just annoying. Perhaps she'd played the part of a grieving orphan too well, but she didn't have a frame of reference. Contrary to all the lies, Mother was still alive and Sephiroth was too. Somewhere. She was starting to think Sephiroth wasn't in Midgar anymore...

"_No. Father plotted my escape for a month. I can look for him at least that long."_

In the time since Sephiroth's death announcement, Toriko had never once been left alone. The constant surveillance was something she was semi-used to because of her position, but with so many eyes watching her, she could not search for her father as effectively as she wanted. Continuous mental calls were met with silence, so it was time to look for Sephiroth the ordinary way.

Toriko padded through the living room and up to her father's study. In all the time she'd lived here, she'd only visited the study about three or four times; there was simply nothing for her up here since Sephiroth used it for work, and frankly, the dark and overwhelmingly masculine décor made her slightly uncomfortable. In any case, Sephiroth had a secure line into the Shin-Ra Armed Forces's database from his home office and Toriko hoped that the connection was still intact. With all the hullabaloo about the funeral and the taping of the tv biography, perhaps no one had gotten around to cutting it off.

It was encouraging that the computer was hibernating instead of off, and though Toriko hadn't known much about Sephiroth's business, she did know his login information for the databases. He hadn't meant for her to know it, but the same stream of thoughts went through his head whenever he logged on, which was most nights. After years of hearing the same set of instructions, Toriko had unconsciously picked them up. Nevertheless, she still breathed a sigh of relief when she allowed the memory of Sephiroth's routine type in a password (98754174186239571, whatever that meant) and it went without a problem.

"_Someone's going to notice me using a dead man's login,"_ she thought. _"I have to go quickly."_

Easier said than done. When the interface popped up, a series of nonsensical files and folders all jumbled together, Toriko realizeed that did not know how to navigate the Shin-Ra Army's database. What a stupid roadblock! She stifled the completely idiotic impulse to start clicking on everything and forced herself to calmly read the fine-printed columns of folders and documents. It looked almost insultingly basic considering that this was the brain of the most powerful army in the world, but looks were deceiving. Everything was coded in numbers, and clicking on sequential numbers yielded results that were totally unrelated. What was the pattern? Where was the information she needed?

Toriko was so focused on trying to understand the code that she wasn't aware of someone standing behind her until he said, "You're not going to find what you're looking for."

The familiar voice cut through the instinct to hurl the useless computer at the intruder and run. Turning slowly, she glared up at Tseng of the Turks.

"He died on his last mission," said Tseng softly. "There was no one to make and file a report."

Gently, Tseng reached across Toriko's arms and logged her out of the system. Toriko looked away, trying to fight the sinking, burning feeling in her chest. Of course all that unlimited access information just couldn't be at a fourteen-year-old's fingertips. She'd blown it, spectacularly.

"Whatever report was filed, I want to see it," she said.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Tseng, I _order _you—" Toriko clamped her lips shut. Tseng looked impassively at her, his silence more effective than any reminder that she had no power in the Company anymore. Everything she had become used to was because of Sephiroth.

"_They can call me the Shin-Ra Princess all they like, but I have about as much individual power as one of Palmer's farts."_

Briefly she considered running away. Maybe even joining AVALANCHE, though she discarded that notion immediately; they were into a bit too much blood and mayhem for her tastes. But how else could she get what she wanted?

"_By trickery, of course."_

She burst into tears. It wasn't hard, she was already furious at having been found out so quickly and at not having discovered anything useful. Tseng's expression never changed, but she felt his emotions cracking with chagrin.

This was going to be a very slow game. It would have to be, to get as much information without arousing suspicion. Let Tseng and the Turks think she was defeated now. She'd find a way to get what she wanted.

"_I'll have to make Rufus find the information for me," _Toriko decided. _"As Vice President, he surely has the credentials to get into even the most classified of files. And if not, President Shin-Ra does."_

By the time Toriko stopped sobbing, Tseng had disappeared. More than likely he hadn't left, but was lurking somewhere around the apartment to watch both her and Rufus. Slowly Toriko stood up, wiped the tears off her face, and walked downstairs. She did not look at Rufus though she thought about him very intensely.

"_How do I make him want to help me? Lying about President Shin-Ra raping me was good enough to earn his protection and I know he's concerned for me, but that doesn't translate into doing whatever I want. I'll have to do something he wants, first..."_

What did Rufus want? Power. That was an open secret. But while everyone agreed he was cunning, no one seemed sure about the extent to which he wanted to take over.

Toriko knew. And moreover, she knew she could make it work for her.

"_I'll just have to help him overthrow President Shin-Ra."_

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a/n: This may be one of the shortest chapters I've ever written.

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	3. He taught me about freedom

My Vietnam

30 May 2014

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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

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_He taught me about freedom_

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Losing Sephiroth was worrisome on more than one level. Obviously the public missed him. Obviously the armed forces missed him. And obviously the SOLDIERS missed him, which was the crux of the problem. Without Sephiroth's DNA, there was no way to create more SOLDIERS. President Shin-Ra did not know much about science, but he did know that Sephiroth's genes provided a scaffold for the SOLDIER injections to transform an ordinary person into a superhuman. Hojo's proprietary blend of Mako and other things did the rest.

"_We have about four hundred SOLDIERS, most of whom are Third Class. Less than twenty First Class remaining now..."_

President Shin-Ra didn't anticipate a need to increase SOLDIER ranks, but knowing that there was no foreseeable way to create any more made him very, very uncomfortable. Particularly in light of the Turks' latest report that AVALANCHE had figured out how to create their own superhumans. They weren't as strong as SOLDIERS, but they also weren't dependent on a single man's genome.

So in the days before Sephiroth's death was announced to the public, President Shin-Ra met with Hojo.

"Is Toriko suitable for maintaining the SOLDIER program?" President Shin-Ra asked him.

"No," said Hojo immediately. "I attempted it as soon as she came into my possession, but her genetic makeup is incompatible with the current crop of candidates."

"All of them?"

"Yes," said Hojo. Straightening his glasses, he said, "Related though they are, Awe and Sephiroth are practically two different species. It's why the crossbreeding never took."

"I thought that was due to surrogate failure."

"Partly." Hojo pursed his lips and said, "At this point, I'm inclined to believe that the only way Awe will ever reproduce is if she goes through the pregnancy herself. Which is unlikely on multiple levels, the first of which being that her genetic makeup is radically different from anything else on the Planet."

"You said that about Sephiroth once as well."

"Indeed... Unfortunately, Awe's birth mother is extremely poor shape and unlikely to survive any sort of pregnancy. She's been hovering on the edge of death for years. And at this time, there do not appear to be any candidates that would be compatible with Awe either." Hojo straightened his glasses again and said, "In any case, something needs to be done with Awe. I recommend a return to the lab. I have confidence that useful results will be produced in time."

"The continuation of the SOLDIER program being first and foremost, I would hope?"

"Of course."

Some sort of accident would be required. Fortunately it was going to be easier to "kill" Toriko since the public perception was that she was but a fragile girl, so even something like a house fire would be completely believable, if unoriginal.

However...

Public interest in Toriko had never been higher. As President Shin-Ra viewed the biography, he had to admit that Toriko's presence only added to the Company. She was growing out of her Wutaiese features and becoming a truly beautiful and elegant young lady, and nothing about her demeanor even hinted at anything improper. She was something of a fashion maven thanks to her stylist. And the fact that Toriko regularly exercised at the Garrison had produced a surge in young girls wanting to join the army, which wasn't a bad thing at all; recruitment had gone way down since the end of the war and as long as a woman could take orders and hold a gun, President Shin-Ra wasn't going to stand in her way.

That wasn't what made her so hard to get rid of, however. Easily the most annoying thing about Toriko's existence was something she had no control over, yet supported her as firmly as the pillars under the Plates.

The Wutaiese diaspora fucking _loved_ her.

There was a certain number of Wutaiese people in Midgar, immigrants who had left the hidebound traditions of the old empire for something that relied on merit and science. They had settled down in Midgar, married, started businesses, and otherwise made themselves part of the community. Then the War had happened and the native Midgarians had turned on the "immigrants", hating both full-bloods and half-bloods alike. People had died. The relationship between the Wutaiese descendents and the native Midgarians had been sour indeed, with race-related incidents occuring more frequently with each passing month...

...but then Sephiroth had introduced and adopted Toriko, and over the next year, these incidents had dropped down to almost zero. The correlation was impossible to ignore.

Toriko had no idea, but President Shin-Ra was well aware that the Wutaiese Midgarians placed a great deal of value on her very public existence, and if she were to go missing... Well, President Shin-Ra did not want a return to the old racist days. Too much time lost tracking down hate crimes and fighting with pro- and anti-diversity groups. Too many stupid prejudices stopping work from being done. Oh, President Shin-Ra hated Wutaiese people to be sure, but foreigners and illegals were one thing and productive immigrants were another. Besides, the Wutaiese could be very useful. Just look at Hojo.

"_She needs to be removed from the public eye without drawing suspicion or eliminating her positive influence... So no scandals, no deaths..._

"_Perhaps an illness."_

Toriko was not the only SOLDIER crossbreed in the world. Third-Classers and Second-Classers had been known to reproduce, but all of those children had died before their sixteenth birthday due to health defects. Not obvious ones, either. Hojo had personally performed all those autopsies and found that they tended to suffer from extremely aggressive, wide-ranging cancers, inexplicable organ failure, and in very rare cases, they died from some sort of plague that turned their flesh into black goo. If Toriko fell abruptly and deeply ill, no one would think anything of it.

"_Yes, she'll have an 'illness'. One that requires hospitalization and as little disturbance as possible to recover. Perhaps a touch of madness as well, nothing too frightening. Memory loss, that would do the trick. And if she ever needed to appear in public again, the methods that would keep her sedate would easily mimic the signs of a fragile mind."_

Rufus would probably be suspicious, but he'd shut up in the face of the gains made. He was at least that sensible. He'd get over losing Toriko, and better sooner rather than later. President Shin-Ra could see that the dark-haired girl was curling her claws into his son's heart. Yes, the sooner she was gone, the better.

"_Six months," _President Shin-Ra decided. _"She'll be back in the lab in six months."_

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: President Shin-Ra has always wanted to get rid of Toriko, but the problem (above all others listed in the chapter) was Sephiroth. He knew that Sephiroth would literally tear the Building down around his ears if Toriko went missing. This is not OGC Sephiroth, who trustingly and loyally obeys the Company. PYLO-verse Sephiroth is a hot and bitter mess of emotions held together with measured violence and a high tolerance for most kinds of stress.

Just in case anyone needed the reminder :P

And Chapter 23 of PYLO provides useful backstory about the War and President Shin-Ra.

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Machaon had things well in hand in Nibelheim, so when Awe called in and asked for an appointment, Hojo was in a position to make that happen quickly. It was a pity about Sephiroth, but Awe had been one of the more tractable specimens before his interference and Hojo was looking forward to working on something that didn't threaten to kill him every time he did bloodwork.

Just like her father, Awe came to the lab alone and went straight to the private examination room, thus named not for privacy but because it was small enough for one scientist and one specimen. It had glass walls on either side like an operating theater, which provided useful education for ambitious underlings. Today, however, Hojo had drawn the curtains; it was not common knowledge on the floor that Toriko Shin-Ra was the same as escaped specimen Awe, and until President Shin-Ra gave him explicit approval to get her back permanently, Hojo could not endanger her public image.

She arrived right on time. Hojo heard the hiss of the door opening and he turned to comment on that, but the words stuck in his throat.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" A black-haired Lucrecia asked. Hojo blinked hard and at once the specter faded. Toriko stood in the doorway, a white trenchcoat over her arm and her hair caught up in a high, full ponytail. Her skirt had a straight hem, not an asymmetrical one, and the ruffles on her shirt went in a square around her neck, not down her front. She was too short, too flat, and far too young.

But the cast of her face was firming up into features that were familiar indeed.

"_Curse you, woman! Even after all this time, you still find a way to haunt me. Why couldn't have Awe taken after a Wutaiese ancestor instead?"_

"Nothing," said Hojo briskly. "Undress. You mentioned pains in the low abdomen?"

"Yes," said Toriko. "I was hoping you could tell me if they were menstrual cramps or not."

"Pre-menstrual cramps, you mean." He looked at her significantly. "Unless something has changed?"

"No period yet," said Toriko, hanging her trenchcoat on the door. It was a thin, shiny little thing. How could he have ever mistaken that for a labcoat? "That's another thing I wanted to ask about."

"You're fourteen," said Hojo. "It's unusual, but not unheard of. Why the sudden interest?" He asked, cocking his head.

"No reason," said Toriko. "I was just curious."

"Hmmm..." Hojo straightened his glasses. "Well, rest assured that your primary amenorrhea has no apparent effect on your fertility, at least according to your last examination. The last blood test also indicated that you are quite ready to be pregnant at any time. So do your best to select a partner with good genes, won't you?"

Any other woman would have blushed at such bald terms, but Toriko just blinked and said, "I'll take that into consideration, Professor. Did you have any candidates in mind?"

What a weird mood she was in today. Normally Toriko was uncommunicative and slightly hostile, but today she was positively chatty. Then again... She had been that way before escaping and living with Sephiroth. Bright, serious, curious but not in an obnoxious sort of way. A bit like Lucrecia, when...

"Bah!" Hojo scoffed. He was getting romantic in his old age. "Knowing your predilections, you'd go out of your way to avoid them."

"Of course," said Toriko serenely. As Hojo frowned, she said, "You're a smart man, Professor. I don't see any reason to make things easier for you."

The impudence was entirely like Sephiroth, which was a relief. Toriko undressed and they began the examination. Her muscle tone was excellent, there were nothing unusual on the cervix or anywhere in the vaginal canal, and her breasts were developing normally as well. Since Sephiroth was not around to glare, Hojo took the opportunity to draw blood and run Toriko through the MRI. She acquiesced quietly, occasionally sniping at him, but after years of Sephiroth's hostility, this was a walk in the park. After some consideration, Hojo sent Toriko to the behaviorist as well; Sephiroth had never agreed to go when it wasn't absolutely necessary, and considering his stress readings before his death, Hojo wondered if he wouldn't have benefited from a visit or ten. Hojo said as much to Toriko, who was quiet for a moment. But she went anyway. Two hours after Toriko had originally come in, Hojo went to check on her and found the behaviorist alone in the office.

"Where did Miss Shin-Ra go?" Hojo asked, alarm bells starting to ring softly in his head. "I told you that you were to inform me if she left."

The behaviorist blinked. "I... What? I didn't see Miss Shin-Ra today."

"Don't be a fool! I sent her to you an hour ago!"

"I've been here," said the behaviorist slowly, gesturing at her desk. "Catching up on paperwork. I haven't seen anyone, Professor."

"I _introduced _you to her_."_

The behaviorist shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what to tell you, Professor. I haven't moved from this desk all day."

Lesser men would have raged, but that was unproductive. Hojo instead went to the security console and accessed the footage from the past two hours. There was Toriko in the private examination room... There she was in the MRI... There she was leaving to go to the behaviorist's...

"_Wait a moment. I walked her over there. Didn't I? She hasn't been back since we got the behaviorist, so she wouldn't know where the office was... _

"_Then again, when have I ever shown anyone anything?_

"_It must have been a different specimen that I introduced._

"_So Toriko must have taken herself..._

"_Which means she's running about unattended in the laboratory for at least an hour. WONDERFUL."_

Rapidly Hojo pulled up the feeds from the entire floor and what he saw made him hiss. Toriko had disappeared. Thirty cameras and there wasn't so much as a flicker of a heel walking out of frame. He resisted the urge to hit the security console. God, it was just like when she was a child and somehow managed to dodge surveillance in a locked room with no features.

"_How is she doing that?"_

Well, no alarms had been set off, so at least Toriko wasn't as pointlessly destructive as her father had been. Pre-war Sephiroth had been a _terrible_ specimen, behavior-wise. Practically from infancy he was figuring out ways to mako Hojo's life harder—his first escape attempt had been at three years old, and a year after that, he had deliberately destroyed a delicate still whose fumes had created a corrosive fog that had caused everyone but him and Hojo to break into pustulant blisters. He'd calmed down a bit with a companion specimen—Genesis, who was now making himself useful in Deepground—but even then, Sephiroth's destructiveness required far too much time and effort to control. He had been a foolish boy. Why, look at Toriko! She didn't need restraints or tranquilizers or electric shocks because _she did what she was told._

That did not mean, however, that she was obedient in any way. Hojo continued searching the surveillance videos, a low growl rising to audible levels as he continued to come up with nothing.

"What are you looking for, Professor?"

Hojo whipped around. Toriko was standing in the doorway of the security room, her coat over her arm.

"Where have you been?" He demanded.

"Looking for you," she said. "I'm about to leave. Unless you wanted me to see someone other than the behaviorist?"

"Don't try to lie to me, young woman!" Hojo snapped. "The behaviorist said she hadn't seen you all day!"

"She?"

"Yes, she!" Hojo stopped. "Are you saying you saw a man?"

"Yes, about so-high..." She indicated the level with her hand. "Graying, past fifties. Said his name was Dr. Hollander?"

"That is the _animal_ behaviorist," snapped Hojo.

"You said specimen behaviorist," said Toriko calmly. "You did not indicate that there were two different ones." She shrugged. "In any case, he was very thorough. I have his findings here," she said, holding out a manila folder.

"Thorough, ppft!" She wasn't exactly wrong, though. Hollander had been fairly competent in paperwork, though his understanding of science and biology were slightly better than post-doc level. No wonder Genesis had failed as an experiment, though he was making the most of his limited time. Demoting Hollander rather than firing him outright had been a kindness. Practically charity. In any case, Hojo crossed the room and snatched the folder from Toriko's hands. He was so irritated that for a moment, the words seemed to blur before his eyes. He growled and rubbed them, clearing his vision as a thin bit of tinnitus keened against his ears. He hated psychology, so all Hojo was concerned with was the diagnosis on the bottom, which said, "All findings within normal parameters."

"Professor...?"

"Yes, go, go," said Hojo, snapping the folder shut. Toriko dipped her head in the barest of bows and left. Hojo went back to real work, absently rubbing his ears to get the last of the persistent whine out.

Hours later Hojo and Hollander got into a fight about leaving specimen notes in the security room, though neither admitted to being the one who'd removed the Sephiroth-Genesis interaction files from Hollander's office. Meanwhile, the security room feeds blipped back to live and the current time instead of cycling the footage from one year back. And in a vent above the power room, a melting block of industrial strength frendalamine finally reached the volatile substance known as galcerolyn, and at approximately 10am the next morning, the switchboard for all the specimen containers failed due to a massive electrical explosion, the cause of which was never, ever discovered.

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: hee hee hee

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	4. Peace, and all the great things

My Vietnam

7 June 2014

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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

/\/\/\/\/\

_Peace, and all the great things we take advantage of_

/\/\/\/\/\

When Rufus invited her for a weekend of shooting in the country, Scarlet didn't think twice; it wasn't the first time they'd gone away together, though shooting trips were less frequent now that they were no longer part of Junon high society, which participated in such things often. That was how they'd gotten to be friends, actually; Scarlet enjoyed all aspects of shooting far too much for a proper young woman and Rufus found her knowledge of firearms fascinating. Later, when Scarlet had started working for the Company, little twelve-year-old Rufus had made sure that President Shin-Ra knew about her and thirteen years later, here she was. So when Rufus called, Scarlet packed a bag of sensible clothes, a trunk of her favorite firearms, and took a week off.

And though it had been a few years, she packed a set of black lingerie that had always made Rufus's cool blue eyes light up.

For shooting, the ancestral estate on Rufus's mother's side was unparalleled. Nestled in deep, well-established woods, the grounds were scrupulously stocked with pheasant and grouse, and lakes with ducks and swans were within easy reach. Larger and more challenging game was just a short hover ride away into the plains. The last time Scarlet and Rufus had gone shooting, they'd bagged a half-grown Zolom and the jaws still hung in Scarlet's office.

The manor itself wasn't bad either. The Aislings had always married smart and never lost their family fortune, so the summer manor was always kept updated even as the centuries-old exterior was preserved. Theneva, Rufus's mother, had a degree in interior design too and redecorated every season, so every time Scarlet went, it was like coming to a brand new house. Malcolm was coming along too and that also made Scarlet happy; Rufus's butler was an excellent all-around cook who could do amazing things with fresh game.

All in all, Scarlet was looking forward to an uncomplicated weekend in gorgeous surroundings with a man who never disrespected or underestimated her.

She was not expecting a teenage interloper.

"She needs some time out of Midgar," said Rufus to Scarlet when they met on the tarmac. Scarlet just gave him a look, which made him shrug. Toriko pretended not to know they were talking about her. "And she won't slow us down."

_"Maybe not you," _thought Scarlet, glancing at Toriko. _"Having Chippie around is going to cramp my style."_

And there was something else. Scarlet did not miss how Rufus was subtly attentive to whatever Toriko did and whenever she moved; similarly, Toriko was also paying close attention to Rufus. There was mutual concern for each other, but also a surprising amount of calculation from both parties.

_"Interesting... So Sephiroth's daughter is more astute than the man himself was. Such a pity that Sephiroth never played the game..."_

On the other hand, Toriko's interest in what Rufus was doing and how to manipulate him (because why would she care otherwise?) directly conflicted with Scarlet's, and by virtue of her age, prettiness, and familial relation, Toriko represented a serious threat. Scarlet inwardly smirked and wondered which one of them that Rufus was more attracted to; the dark, exotic halfbreed or the Continental rose whose attar he'd already sampled. Rufus was halfway between Toriko and Scarlet's ages too, ten years apart from both of them.

A short ride in a luxurious jet later, they were at the estate. Scarlet watched Toriko take her bags out of the plane with great interest. She had a plain army duffel (no doubt her father's), three gun cases of varying size, and twin blades that honestly looked a bit large for her... Though they seemed suited to Sephiroth. Raiding Daddy's closet, was she?

_"Well, if not her, who else?"_

Her style of dress was interesting too. Scarlet had only ever seen Toriko in skirts and dresses, all cute and fluffy with a bit of military-esque hardware so she wasn't super-girly all the time. But the fitted cargo pants and lean jacket she wore emphasized the fact that she was growing up, even if she was as flat as a board with no waist or butt to speak of. Like her father, Toriko also favored a luxurious head of occupational hazard, though Toriko kept it braided very tightly to her scalp and pinned so close that it looked like she had a bob. Scarlet approved. She'd never been sure how Sephiroth had lived through the entire war with such a long head of hair, and even after the war she'd always wanted to yank on it just to prove a point.

But she also wanted to live, so she never had.

Dinner was roast squab with new carrots and fingerling potatoes, cooked simply so the outstanding freshness took center stage. Conversation was light and meaningless; Toriko was mostly silent, so Scarlet and Rufus talked about the failures of certain Company policy and drank wine.

It wasn't until after dinner that things got interesting, and decidedly less than relaxing.

Scarlet and Rufus went to the den, which had already been laid with a roaring fire. Rufus settled himself in an armchair while Scarlet lounged on the couch. She felt pleasantly drunk, though a sense of wrongness had been growing in her stomach all night and was now approaching the point where she needed to say something about it.

"Rufus, I have to say that while this is lovely, I really doubt that much shooting is going to be done this weekend," said Scarlet.

"You are correct," said Rufus. "Though there's not going to be much of _that,_ either."

"Don't let me get in your way," said Toriko from behind the couch. Scarlet managed to suppress her twitch just in time as Toriko appeared out of the shadows like a ghost, the firelight making her eyes glow. Toriko took the other armchair, which put her across from Rufus and at Scarlet's left. Reluctantly Scarlet sat up a bit so she could see both her companions at the same time.

"Generous of you," said Rufus without a hint of embarrasment. "But no."

"The weekend is still early," said Scarlet, but her heart wasn't in it. To Toriko, she said, "So... What are you thinking?"

"Just that your conversation at dinner was very interesting," said Toriko. "I am less than fond of President Shin-Ra myself. And..." She hesitated. "...I have reason to believe that he's done my father harm."

"You think your father was assassinated?" Scarlet asked. Privately she could see it—President Shin-Ra had never been happy about Sephiroth's sky-high popularity—but aloud she said, "That's a bit far-fetched, don't you think?"

"Is it?" asked Toriko. "You remember his absence about a month ago?"

"Two weeks of seeing neither hair nor hide of him," Scarlet murmured. "He was on assignment."

"He was locked in a laboratory inside the Shin-Ra Building," said Toriko. "For making President Shin-Ra angry."

"Really, now?" Scarlet took another sip of wine. "And what would Sephiroth do to make President Shin-Ra so angry?"

"Attack him."

Scarlet choked on her wine. After a few ungraceful coughs, she looked at Rufus and said, "I never heard about this."

"Just wait for it," said Rufus, steepling his fingers.

"Do you really think that President Shin-Ra would let such a powerful SOLDIER run around without any sorts of checks?" Toriko asked, cocking one brow. "Once Father hit First Class, Hojo implanted a device that the President has control of. When Father moved against him, the President used the device. And then sent my father to Hojo for punishment."

"Assuming this is true, why would Sephiroth attack President Shin-Ra?" Asked Scarlet.

"Because President Shin-Ra attacked me."

"...he attacked you."

"Yes," said Toriko, her eyes turning dark and sharp. Scarlet saw the quiver in her hands as the young girl laced them together and said in an artificially relaxed voice, "He did."

Scarlet brushed sentiment aside. If what Toriko was saying was true, she'd express her sympathies later. "So your father attacked the President, the President made Hojo put him away and then...what?"

"Sephiroth came to work for one day," said Rufus unexpectedly, making Scarlet turn. "We spoke in my office. He said he was being put on a long-term assignment, somewhere far away from Toriko. And we all know how that turned out."

"I don't buy it," said Scarlet. Looking at Toriko, she said, "The President has never been so controlled by his dick that he'd send his best SOLDIER off just to pork you some more. You're sweet, honey, but you're not that irresistible."

"He did it to prove a point," said Toriko. Interestingly she hadn't flinched at all from Scarlet's deliberately crude language, which the older woman found suspicious. "And it was only supposed to be a month away, not..." Toriko sighed heavily, closing her eyes. "Anyway, the President must have realized he had an opportunity to get rid of Father permanently."

"And why would he want to do that?"

"Father's too popular," said Toriko. "I'm sure you've noticed it yourself. If Father had it in his mind to command the army _against_ the Company, no few would follow. And after what happened to me... He most certainly had cause."

Scarlet sipped her wine. The scenario that Toriko outlined was not unreasonable. There was plenty of grumbling about the Company and the President, but nary a bad word breathed about Sephiroth. To the general public, Sephiroth was a hero, the one who had killed and bled for them. If he needed something, there would be plenty of starry-eyed fans desperate to impress him.

But desperate enough to go against the Company?

_"It's not just them," _Scarlet realized. _"The SOLDIERS. They know Sephiroth, and more than just being their commander, they see him as their brother. And Toriko's been training at the Garrison, so they know her too. If Sephiroth asked the SOLDIERS to rebel agains the Company... Oof. They definitely have more loyalty to him than the President. It would be a bloodbath. An expensive, profitless bloodbath."_

"So that's why you wanted to come here?" Scarlet asked. "You wanted to talk conspiracy theories?"

"No," said Toriko. "I wanted to talk coup d'etat."

Scarlet stared. She looked at Rufus, who did not seem at all surprised.

"Sweetie, did you get into the wine?" Scarlet asked Toriko.

"No, honey, I did not," said Toriko. As Scarlet glared, she said, "I hate President Shin-Ra. I think that's something all of us can agree on."

"But a coup..." Scarlet looked at Rufus. "You're just going to sit there? Really?"

"She has a point."

"Oh my god."

Rufus sat up, his eyes bright and sharp. "We know he's been running the Company into the ground. The very fact that Midgar exists the way it does proves it. He used up _trillions_ of gil to create the Plates rather than repair and expand the old city. If we weren't sitting on a surplus from War profits and receiving additional income from our investments, we'd be bankrupt. The Shin-Ra Company proper has been operating in the red for years, but no one ever says anything because the Old Man won't hear it."

"I'm in the same meetings you are, Rufus, you don't have to tell me what I already know," Scarlet snapped.

"Then tell me what I know you know," said Rufus, his eyes boring into hers. "That there _is_ no future for the Company with the Old Man at the lead."

Scarlet opened her mouth and shut it. She took a long, measured drink of her wine, which was getting very low indeed. How the hell could he remember something she said years ago in a drunken rant?

"We're doing alright," she muttered.

"We could be doing better," said Rufus. "Scarlet, I want you as my Vice President." As Scarlet choked again, he went on with, "Do you want to stay in the Weapons Department forever?"

"Well... No, but..." Scarlet shook her head. "You two are crazy. How do you even think you'll pull this off?"

"The Company already looks foolish," said Toriko. "AVALANCHE 'killed' my father, which is less than comforting for everyone involved."

"Reactors are failing more often as well," said Rufus. "The Old Man would rather build new than repair anything. Remember Gongaga?" At Scarlet's noise of derision, he said, "Three years and he still hasn't gotten around to approving repairs."

"I don't even know why he bothers with that, it should be Reeve's purview," mused Scarlet.

"That's the other thing. Tell me you aren't sick of his micromanagement."

"The only one who gets free reign is Hojo," said Scarlet, falling into the familiar cycle of an old rant. "And his stupid little 'Promised Land' theory. You know, there are days that I can't tell if he's talking about an alternate dimension or if he thinks the Planet is hollow or..."

"And that's where all our money is going."

"Uuuuuurrrrghhhh..."

"And what about that Space Program?"

"UGH! That fatass!" Scarlet half-snarled. "With his fat head! Interstellar mining, really? It's not exactly like we're running out of resources here."

"And the very large standing army?"

"If President Shin-Ra put even half that budget into Urban-D and Weapons, we'd have _the whole Planet under our control."_

Rufus nodded. Too late Scarlet realized the trap she'd stumbled into. She looked at Toriko, whose eyes seemed very green at the moment.

"What's your deal?" Scarlet asked, her own eyes narrowing. "What do you get?"

"I want the Science Department," said Toriko.

"You? Why?"

"Hojo spends too much time on SOLDIERS when he could be doing things like developing new medicine, better prosthetic limbs, and at the very least, more effective monster deterrent for villages that can't afford a high-voltage electric fence," said Toriko.

"So you want it out of the goodness of your heart?" Scarlet demanded sarcastically.

"No," said Toriko. Her eyes flickered. "It's more personal than that."

"What could possibly be personal between you and the Science Department?"

Toriko's lips pressed into a thin line. She looked at Rufus, sighed heavily, and then unlaced her hands. Slowly she took off one of her ever-present gloves and held the back of her left hand up for them to see. The ink was faded, but the block double zero tattoos were visible enough. And more importantly, familiar enough. Scarlet gaped.

_"And didn't she appear right after that lab break three years ago? Shit!"_

"You know that most SOLDIER offspring die?" Toriko said, putting her glove back on. "Hojo... He wants to know the 'secret of my vigor'. Father did his best, but... What the President says, goes." Toriko's eyes flashed. "No more human experiments," she said in a low, tight voice. "No more of what happened to me. The President and Hojo tried to get me back once already and I wouldn't be surprised if they're plotting to do so again.

"Father... Is no longer around to protect me." Toriko looked directly into Scarlet's eyes. "I have to protect myself."

Scarlet rubbed her eyes. "I could turn you both in," she said.

"But that wouldn't change a thing," said Rufus. "You would never rise higher than you are right now."

"I'd still be alive!" Scarlet said, glaring at him. "I'm good, but if the Turks—"

"Technically, Heidegger controls the Turks now," said Toriko. "It's in the Turk manual. They operate under Peace Enforcement, not the President, so there's always plausible deniability in the case of a scandal."

"So what are you saying, we need to bring Heidegger in on this merry little party?" Scarlet shook her head. "That'll never work. Heidegger was chosen by President Shin-Ra himself, he won't turn on him."

"Unless he gets something he wants."

"And you know what Heidegger wants?"

"No," said Toriko. "You do." She smiled thinly and said, "I know you've been studying him."

"And why would I use that to help you?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Don't even try that, chippie," said Scarlet. As Toriko's eyes flickered in surprise, Scarlet said, "So far I have everything I want and contrary to popular belief, I'm pretty happy where I am right now. So far neither of you have made any really convincing arguments about why I should help you with this ridiculous, possibly life-ending scheme. Ambition doesn't do me any good if sticking my neck out gets it chopped off."

"You're a friend of Rufus's, so I thought you would appreciate the warning," said Toriko stiffly. Obviously things weren't going the way she planned and that was fine by Scarlet; she wasn't about to be manipulated by someone twenty years her junior.

"I stand by what I said, Scarlet," said Rufus. Steepling his fingers once again, he said, "I can't think of anybody else with the necessary intelligence to do what needs to be done."

Crazy. They were both crazy. "I'm going to bed," said Scarlet, rising up from the couch. "And I'd better not hear about any of this tomorrow, or I'm going straight home."

She could feel their eyes on her back as she left the room, and though she was warm from wine and fire, Scarlet shivered as she walked to the guest room. They were both completely insane. Toriko was a grieving child and perhaps some insanity was expected, but Rufus was better acquainted than most when it came to how truly ruthless the President could be. Rufus wasn't stupid, so why would he be champing so hard at the bit to take over _now_ instead of in ten or twenty years?

Ten or twenty more years of President Shin-Ra.

Scarlet could admit she was less than enthusiastic about the idea. It wasn't just the micromanagement or the pigeonholing into her current role. One of the very first memories she had of President Shin-Ra as employer was him scoffing at her choice of department. He tried, oh how he tried, to get her into something "more suitable". It wasn't until she built a brand new rifle from the ground up with a 45% increase in accuracy over a hundred yards that he finally _listened _to her. And it wasn't until her rifles (marketed under the Company name so she never got a whit of credit) proved their worth over three years that she got a _promotion._

Scarlet had been working for the Company for thirteen years and had fought tooth and nail for every advancement. That would have made a lot of women bitter. Or quit. But Scarlet...

Oh hell, Rufus and the Chippie were right. She wanted more. She had _always_ wanted more, never content with sipping tea and shooting for charity events. It wasn't about just making weapons either; if she'd wanted to do that, Scarlet would have started her own company and the Shin-Ra be damned. And it wasn't about money either, her family was plenty wealthy.

The position...

The status...

Vice President of the biggest corporation in the world...

_"I'm not going to commit to anything," _Scarlet told herself sternly. _"Not anything... Not yet. If those two can impress me, then we'll see..."_

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: I'm not sure where the impression of Scarlet as bimbo comes from. She is an Executive for a reason, which I have always taken to be smarts, ambition, and the willingness to use whatever was at her disposal. Considering she's a brick house, the sparkling evening gown is overkill but understandable.

One of the things I'm looking forward to with this AU is exploring the Executives' lives and motives. Don't villains usually tend to be more interesting?

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	5. Once I fed the homeless

My Vietnam

9 June 2014

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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

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_Once I fed the homeless_

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Scarlet left the lodge two days later, citing work. Toriko scanned her and reassured herself that it actually was work, and while she was poking in the blonde woman's head she got a few more reassurances too.

"Noninterference is probably the best we'll get from her," said Toriko to Rufus as they watched the helicopter fly away. She always used doubtful language when talking about information gained psychically, so to normals Toriko always appeared very intuitive rather than freakishly accurate. "I think she's intrigued."

"I wasn't expecting her to say yes," said Rufus, folding his arms across his chest. "Scarlet always needs proof."

Then he looked at Toriko, his eyes narrowing. Not in an unfriendly way, simply considering.

"You never told me about your...mark," he said.

Toriko self-consciously tucked her hands behind her back. Even though she hadn't taken her gloves off since, the double zero tattoos felt like they were glowing through the fabric. Though showing Scarlet the laboratory tattoos had definitely proven a point, she didn't care enough about Scarlet's opinion to be worried about what the woman thought. But Rufus...

_"I can't have him thinking of me as something lesser for having been 'worked on'. I am a partner in this, not a pet or an object of pity."_

"I don't blame you," said Rufus, which made Toriko sigh in relief. "And it explains some things. But are there any other earth-shattering revelations you want to drop on me before we get started?"

"No," Toriko lied. If she said anything about Sephiroth being alive and confined in a lab someplace now, she'd look like a crazy person. "Do you have any for me?"

"Hardly," said Rufus. They walked back to the manor, ambling more than striding. It was a cool morning with just enough bite in the air to stimulate the senses. "Are you sure about this?"

"Of course," said Toriko. "Wasn't I the one who suggested it to you?"

"It doesn't mean that you've thought it through." Rufus looked at her, his eyes darkening. "Scarlet's not lying. The Old Man didn't get to where he is by being stupid, and you're only fourteen."

"And you're twenty-four," said Toriko. "He'll be underestimating both of us."

"Not with his paranoia."

"Traffic noises."

"Excuse me?"

"You've been having trouble sleeping without them, haven't you?" As Rufus quirked his brow, Toriko explained, "You're used to an annoying noise, so you've tuned it out. I believe President Shin-Ra's ongoing general suspicion may similarly deaden his senses."

"You think he won't suspect us because he's _too_ paranoid?" Rufus said, a rare smile touching his face. He scoffed, but at the same time his eyes turned calculating and he said, "It wouldn't be the first time he's...miscalculated. That's how your father ended up in charge of all the armed forces."

"Really? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

"Oh yes," said Rufus, looking off into the distance. "The Old Man is a lot of things, but a military strategist isn't one of them. He was all gung-ho about destroying as many Wutaiese as he could get his hands on, but he didn't know anything other than open warfare. Sephiroth's guerilla tactics with the Seventh were way more effective."

"I see."

Rufus glanced at her. "That doesn't bother you, does it?"

"What, that my father was a peerless killer?" She shrugged. "It's a fact of life. And I daresay that your father has hurt and killed many more. The Shin-Ra Company's supremacy is built atop a mountain of competitor's corpses, to say nothing of the collateral damage incurred from fighting with AVALANCHE and infrastructure collapses."

She jerked when Rufus unexpectedly ruffled her hair. As she stared at him, he walked on like nothing had happened.

"The Old Man is very attached to his image," said Rufus. "So the best way to depose him is to damage it somehow."

He said nothing about her supposed violation. He had that much integrity.

Instead Rufus said, "There are two very big projects going on right now that the Old Man's been talking up for ages. One is the Highwind—"

"I remember seeing that," said Toriko. When Rufus looked at her in surprise, she said, "Father took me on an inspection."

"So you can appreciate how much money is wrapped up in that thing."

"Oh yes," said Toriko, though truthfully she could only imagine. Even half-completed, the Highwind had been a ridiculously huge machine. Completed, it might house a small city.

"Well, as expensive as the Highwind is, there's something even flashier and riskier," said Rufus. "The space shuttle, Shin-Ra No. 26."

"What happened to numbers 1 through 25?"

"Short-circuited, exploded, or just plain failed to launch," said Rufus. "The Old Man is obsessed with being a visionary, and getting up into space is his next big thing."

"What about the Promised Land that Scarlet mentioned?"

"That's his long-term big thing," said Rufus. "Pure religious nonsense, except he has the power and money to waste on it. Going back to No. 26, it's supposed to be the first manned flight into space. Lots and lots of publicity there. If it falls flat, it'll go badly for him."

"Sounds like you've already chosen your target," said Toriko.

"Well, I know which one I'd pick," said Rufus, looking at Toriko. They were at the manor now, entering from a side door. Rufus held it open for Toriko and asked, "What about you?"

"Whichever is more expensive and embarrassing to have fail," said Toriko.

"The rocket it is, then. The only problem is getting in there and making it fail."

"Can't we use a Turk?"

"We could," said Rufus. "But generally speaking, it's a poor idea to use Turks to sabotage Company property. They have their loyalty and all that."

"A mercenary?"

"Possibly, except the best ones have been hired into the Turks already."

_"I could probably do it,"_ thought Toriko. _"The runaround in the lab worked surprisingly well. But do I want to show off how capable I am? Rufus is currently an ally and I can't imagine that he'd oppose me rescuing Father, so having him see my strength would not hurt me in any way that I can think of... And he has seen me fight in Wutai, so it's not like I need to pretend to be useless..."_

Still, her rarely-used strength was a trump card. Toriko decided to keep it to herself for now. Just because Rufus was helping her now didn't mean he always would.

They took seats at the kitchen table, which was still highly polished and grand but less intimidating than the formal dining room. Malcolm was not present, but freshly baked rolls with preserves and artisan butter were waiting for them. Toriko ate a croissant plain while Rufus stuffed one with blackberry and raspberry jam.

"I wonder if we could make AVALANCHE do it," Toriko mused. "It's a big Shin-Ra project, and if it fails to launch or is destroyed by terrorists, it's egg on the President's face either way, isn't it?"

"I don't want any more focus on AVALANCHE than there's already been," said Rufus, his lips thinning. "The Old Man uses them as scapegoats for everything and the Company needs to look foolish, not beleagured."

"How hard would it be to make the rocket fail?"

"Not too hard, I would think," said Rufus. "It's a very complex machine. Lots of moving parts, levers, buttons."

"Could we bribe a technician, then? Someone has to need money for something."

"And how do we prevent them from talking afterward?" Rufus asked. Toriko felt an odd sense of deja vu; Sephiroth had played these sorts of question-and-answer games with her, though the scenario was usually 'if someone were to attack you right now, what are your options?' Rufus had that exact same look in his eye.

"Blackmail," said Toriko. "The fact that they accepted the money is a stain against them."

"But they got the money from us."

"Says who? A random, unbalanced nobody or one of the literal Shin-Ra?"

Rufus smirked, but it wasn't in approval. "It's more efficient to blackmail them first," he said only a little condescendingly. "And save yourself the money."

Personally, the more chains of indenture the better, but Toriko pretended like she thought Rufus's idea was a good one. "I suppose that makes sense."

Rufus didn't say anything, but he did eat the rest of his roll with a bit of a smirk. Slightly irritated, Toriko scanned his mind and found that his amusement came from a surprisingly non-pompous place. In his mind, this scene between them in the kitchen was overlaid with one of a much younger him and a younger Scarlet.

_"Interesting. I had no idea that their relationship went back that far."_

The image slid away in the blink of an eye, but not before Toriko had already figured out the next best way to manipulate Rufus.

_"Fine then. I'll let him 'teach' me a thing or two. It's not like he'll be able to do anything without me knowing about it, anyway."_

And while he drew her close to mold her in his image, just as Scarlet had done to him around the same age, Toriko would be that much closer to his soft center.

_"When the time comes, he won't just give me all the reports about Father. I'll have him give me Father's location too, if I haven't found it by myself before then._

_ "And then we can all go back to having nice, peaceful lives, doing whatever we want."_

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: Two-chapter update since I'm going to be away on vacation for 3 weeks and I want y'all to be stewing. STEWING, I tell you!

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	6. I'll never forget

My Vietnam

17 June 2014

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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

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_I'll never forget_

/\/\/\/\/\

Being an engineer at heart, Reeve reckoned he was more excited about the launch of Shin-Ra No. 26 than Palmer (who honestly had more enthusiasm than brains when it came to space). Reeve packed up his family to attend the launch, which was far more complicated than it should have been; Rose didn't want to leave her boyfriend (so Jack came along), Naomi suffered from terrible jetlag (so they took several small flights instead of one continuous one), and Meryl was constantly airsick (and spent a lot of time in the bathrooms). Despite all the bumps, Reeve was still very excited when they arrived at Rocket Town.

"Just think, in two days we'll be part of history!" Reeve gushed as they checked into the hotel. He was not so enthusiastic that he missed Naomi's disapproving grimace at the rustic setting, nor how Rose rolled her eyes and Jack just managed to hide his smile. Meryl, still somewhat green, nevertheless smiled at him and then flopped onto the nearest bed to rest.

"Rest up, kids!" said Reeve, determined to bring the enthusiasm. "I'm going out and finding food!"

"Or you could place an order with room service, Mr. Tuesti."

Meryl popped off the bed like she had springs and flew toward the doorway, arms thrown out side. "TORY!"

"Gah," was all Toriko managed to get out before Meryl tackled her into the hall. An alarming thud made Reeve wince but the next second the girls were laughing.

"They have room service?" Naomi asked skeptically as Toriko and Meryl got up off the floor.

"In a manner of speaking," said Toriko. "There's a card on the table with a few options. Circle what you want and one of the villagers will cook it for you."

"Oh," said Naomi. "How...quaint."

"The food is very good," said Toriko with a serene smile. "I've been enjoying it for the past three days."

Reeve looked at Toriko closely. She seemed in very good spirits, all things considered. A month had passed since Sephiroth's funeral and she was still attending school and keeping her grades up. She hadn't visited them in the month since, however, hence Meryl's enthusiasm.

"How are you holding up?" Rose asked, her brow creased with worry. Her fangirl crush on Sephiroth had faded over the years, replaced by an honest respect for the General and friendship with his daughter.

Toriko shrugged, but it was a helpless sort of gesture. "I don't know what to say. Nothing changes the situation. Rufus has been suggesting that I hire a maid, but I don't know what I'd do with the free time."

"Spend it with meeeee," said Meryl, and as the rest of her family frowned at her apparent insensitivity, she said, "Your dad would want you to be happy."

"That is quite true," said Toriko. To Naomi she said, "Take your time with the card. I'm carrying mine downstairs now, but I can wait a bit for yours."

Dinner turned out to be a superb roasted chicken with leeks and potatoes, accompanied with fresh fluffy rolls and butter so sweet and creamy that there was a near fight over the last of it. The inn had a rough sort of patio at the back, which was where Reeve and his family took their meal. Some of the other Executives were there also, though not the President; he would be flying in the day of the launch. Palmer needed to be on the ground in case of disaster, however, and Heidegger apparently had nothing better to do. Both of them were on the opposite side of the patio, each reviewing something that looked like it had to do with work.

"Toriko, did you fly here alone?" Reeve asked in surprise.

"Yes," said Toriko. "Originally I was supposed to come with Rufus, but he was held up with business and I went on ahead."

"Aren't you super bored?" Meryl asked. "It doesn't seem like there's much to do here."

"I like breathing the fresh air and talking to people who are very proud of their work," said Toriko. "Plus it's giving me time to look at university applications."

"You're two whole years from graduation," said Meryl incredulously.

"Well..." Toriko said slowly. "The thing is, Father wanted me to go into the military, which I would have done this year. But I never wanted to go." She looked at Reeve. "You knew him longer than I did. Do..." She ducked her head, her voice coming out in a whisper. "Do you think he'd find me a bad daughter if I didn't go?"

"Oh, sweetie," Naomi gasped. Instinctively she reached across the table and grabbed one of Toriko's hands, her eyes full of pathos. "No, never."

"Regardless of what happened, it's your life," said Reeve. Folding his hands together, he said, "And if you don't want to go into the military, that's perfectly fine. Did you have something else in mind?"

"Science," said Toriko softly. Reeve's brows shot nearly to his hairline.

"Wow," he said.

"What?" Rose asked, looking from Reeve to Toriko and back again. "What is it?"

"The General _haaated_ the Science Department," said Meryl, looking at Toriko with wide eyes. "Especially whathisname, Hobo?"

"Hojo," said Toriko, not even a smile in her eyes. "It was mutual."

"Why do you want to go into that field?" Jack asked, frowning.

"I've always found it interesting," said Toriko. "I just...had to hide it. Father didn't hate intelligent people, you understand, he just..." She hunched in on herself. "He was extraordinary. And he hated being singled out like that, by people who just wanted to dissect him. Who didn't care about him at all. That's not the kind of science I want to do, but he just never listened."

"He could be stubborn," agreed Reeve.

"So you're looking at science programs then?" Meryl asked, tilting her head.

"Yes," said Toriko, lifting her head slightly. "Midgar and Junon University have competitive programs in molecular biology, but the Center at Cosmo Canyon is unparalleled for Planetary Studies and Professor Bugenhagen is still teaching. He was the original head of Shin-Ra's Science Department."

"That sounds pretty cool," said Meryl. "What is it about Planetary Studies you like best?"

Reeve marveled at his younger daughter's ability to draw Toriko out; in a few minutes, Toriko was excitedly going over the finer points of the Planetary Studies field, which Meryl and Reeve listened attentively to. Naomi, Rose, and Jack did their best, but broke off into their own pod of conversation.

The launch was the day after tomorrow, but the toils of travel and the lack of bright lights had everyone yawning early. Reeve was a chronic insomniac, however, and around 3am he kicked off the blankets, got dressed, and went out for a walk. The massive spectacle of Shin-Ra No. 26 seemed to sparkle against the moon, making Reeve sigh with happiness. Mako Reactors and cities were big, but _this_... This was beyond big. This was beyond humanity. Reeve paused near the inn door, basking in the sight of hope and inspiration made real.

Something poked Reeve in the arm, nearly making him yell. To his surprise it was Palmer, wordlessly offering him a cup of something steaming. The spring night was on the chilly side, so Reeve accepted.

"Thought I'd die before this got done," said Palmer without preamble. As Reeve blinked at him, Palmer said, "You get it, don't you?"

"...yeah," said Reeve, looking back at the rocket. "Humanity is amazing."

"Humanity?" Palmer exclaimed, startling Reeve again. "That's what you see? With that rocket," he gestured grandly. "There won't be any more dark places to hide. We'll know the world as it is, Reeve."

"Don't we already?" Reeve sipped the coffee. In stark contrast to the food, it was _terrible. _Reeve just barely managed not to spit it out and he wondered if Palmer had brewed it himself. Using old socks.

"Of course not!" Palmer said, and while Reeve mentally reconnected to the conversation, the older man added, "Manned space flight is just the beginning. Once this works, I'm going to pitch the idea of a space station."

His eyes were gleaming. Reluctantly Reeve asked, "And the purpose of said station?"

"Surveillance, Reeve. Can you imagine it? Looking down at the whole world all at once."

Reeve took another sip of horrible coffee. _"But why look down when you can look up and out?"_

"It's going to be a grand day," said Palmer. "Can't wait."

"Uh-huh," said Reeve. "Listen... I'm going to continue on my walk. Thanks for the coffee."

"You're welcome. Brewed it myself."

"...thanks so much."

Palmer wasn't moving from his spot, so Reeve set the coffee down on the inn stoop and started walking. The rocket was still an amazing piece of technology, but after hearing Palmer's little speech Reeve was suddenly less than enthusiastic. He sighed heavily and took an oblique path around the launch site, perversely choosing a path that went through some thick, heavily shadowed trees.

A snap made him whip around again, his skin prickling with the awareness of being followed. But there was no one in the shadows. Reeve nearly relaxed, but he heard another snap and instinct made him duck down by the roots of a particularly old tree. Rocket Town had a very well-functioning fence, so it wasn't a monster; despite the dark and the late hour, Reeve was more curious than afraid. Like a hunting cat he waited motionlessly, barely breathing as the moon crept across the sky.

Someone stepped out of the shadows. There was a furtive look to the way they moved, though from where he was, Reeve could not tell if the figure was male or female. He/she/it was approaching the village from the rocket and wearing technician blue overalls.

_"That's odd,"_ thought Reeve. _"What sort of repairs needed to be done at this time of night?"_

It turned out not to be repairs. Reeve almost laughed when someone else came out of the shadows in the woods, obviously female, and then fell upon the technician with quite the furious hugging and kissing. As carefully as he'd ever done anything in his life, Reeve straightened and crept out of the forest, leaving the couple to their illicit romp.

The incident was completely out of his mind the next day, during which Toriko took it on herself to play tour guide. The early morning was spent hunting for mushrooms and fiddleheads, which Rose complained to be "the uncoolest thing ever" until she found a mushroom taller than her hand. Citybred all his life, Reeve was amazed at Toriko's outdoor knowledge.

"Are you sure these are the bad ones?" He asked, pointing at a mass of pointy brown mushrooms.

"Yes."

"Are you _sure?"_

"Mr. Tuesti, I am sure as the day is long that if you eat those, you're going to have un-fun hallucinations and seizures. And you'll miss the launch."

"But how do you know these are the bad ones?"

Toriko pulled a knife out of her pants pocket. That was something new, she'd taken to wearing pants almost exclusively after Sephiroth's passing, particularly the cargo style that was studded with pockets. And the knife she had was just barely legal carrying size in Midgar. She flicked the blade out and knelt by the mushroom patch, gesturing for Reeve to do the same.

"Firstly, notice how the folds look like a wrinkled brain rather than discrete cells," said Toriko, pointing at the outside of the mushroom with the knife tip. "Secondly, upon dissection, you will observe that the stem is solid rather than hollow, which means this is not the sort we want to eat now." She sliced one open and showed him the inside, which was indeed solid. "Thirdly, the irv reflects differently."

"The what?"

"The irv."

"What's the irv?"

"The...irv," she said with a helpless shrug. "It's like a color. I don't know how to explain it."

"Like a color?" He repeated. Something clicked. "Toriko, are you saying you have infrared vision? Because the only time I've ever heard that word is when SOLDIERS talk among themselves."

She shrugged again. As Reeve stared, she said, "Father didn't act like it was anything special. I just started seeing it recently."

"You are full of surprises," said Reeve. "I don't suppose you'd happen to know which band you're seeing?"

"I didn't know the irv was infrared vision until just now, so...no."

"Amazing," said Reeve, sitting back on his heels. "That's a very rare ability you have, Toriko. Something like less than a fifth of SOLDIERS and less than a third of First Class have it."

"Must be genetics," said Toriko.

"Must be."

"Tory, are these poison or not?" Meryl called from another part of the woods. Toriko and Reeve left the poisonous mushrooms and headed toward her.

"I'm guessing you know all about this stuff from your dad too, huh?" Reeve asked.

Toriko nodded. "We used to go camping frequently when we were getting to know each other. Almost every weekend."

A pang in Reeve's heart made him sigh. Toriko glanced up at him.

"Thanks for sharing this with us," said Reeve. As Toriko ducked her head, he said, "I know you miss him a lot. But I'm glad he was able to teach you and spend a lot of time with you. I'll admit, I'm kinda jealous."

"He was less busy than you," said Toriko. "And he liked being out of the city more than being in it, which I suspect is not the same for you."

"Ha! That is true." He looked around, saying, "Someplace like this is nice to visit, but I want the girls to go to good schools and meet lots of people. Kinda need a city for that."

"I suppose."

The acommodating innkeeper fried up the savory, creamy mushrooms and fiddleheads with more of that excellent butter, and after a shower and a nap, Reeve was surprised when Toriko said she was going to the kitchen to help cook.

"It eats up time," she said. "Meryl is right. It is kind of amazingly boring around here."

So the innkeeper suffered the presence of Reeve and his family in the kitchen too. After witnessing their general incompetence at chopping, deboning, and knowing when water was boiling, the innkeeper wisely set the five of them to pinching out and shaping buns, which was pretty idiot-proof. Naomi fancied herself a cook and sulked a bit at being relegated to the dunce corner, but Rose and Meryl had a lot of fun rolling perfect little spheres, cutting X's into the tops, and then brushing an egg glaze over top to make them bake up shiny. Toriko meanwhile cut up vast quantities of meat and vegetables, seemingly as fast as a professional chef.

"Genetics?" Reeve asked as he watched the knife fly.

"Practice," she said. "Father and I used to make this a contest."

"Who won?"

"Him. Until I got a smaller knife. It was much easier to handle. But he still won most of the time."

"It's hard to imagine your dad doing, y'know... Dad stuff," said Meryl. "Remember the time I slept over and..." She stopped. "Wait, that's not a good story."

"But it's a very funny one," said Toriko. Reeve suddenly became aware that the kitchen had become quiet, no doubt the employees and innkeeper attempting to listen in on Sephiroth-stories.

"It was funny to you," said Meryl, though she didn't sound particularly embarrassed. "Do you remember how annoyed he was?"

"Oh yes," said Toriko with a smile. "Like you could do anything about it."

"And then he just gives me this roll of paper towels?"

Toriko laughed. Meryl caught her father's eye and grinned.

"And then he goes, 'a whole roll of paper towels is insufficient?'" Meryl mimicked the General's voice as best she could, which just made Toriko laugh harder. Reeve chuckled too, but it was a brief thing. Toriko kept laughing.

"Uh..." Rose looked at her worriedly as the younger girl started to curl in on herself, her laughter deepening into something far more upsetting. "Toriko?"

Reeve shot to his feet and went to Toriko. "Okay, why don't we put that down," he said, prying the chopping knife out of her fingers. She had a death grip but Reeve patiently worked from her pinky inwards, eventually sliding the knife free. He hustled her out of the back of the kitchen and into the yard, away from prying and concerned eyes. The chickens ignored them as Reeve sat Toriko on the bench by the rain barrel. She didn't look anything like alright now, her face pale and her green eyes shining. Too late she covered her face with her hands and put her head on her knees, but her body still shook with suppressed sobs.

Something brushed his side. Reeve glanced down and nearly tripped over his own feet trying to get away from Dark Nation, who headbutted Toriko in the shoulder. When she didn't respond, the massive pantheround leaned against her, reminding Reeve in that instant of a very large retriever. A moment later, Rufus appeared from around the side of the building, looking immaculate in his usual black and white.

"Reeve," he said by way of greeting. They could have been at the office.

"Vice President," said Reeve in the same tone, though he couldn't help but glance at Toriko.

"Thank you for your time," said Rufus firmly. Standing by Toriko, he bent down slightly put his hand on her shoulder and said, "I'll take it from here."

_"How?" _Reeve thought, trying not to stare. Rufus was not exactly known for compassion. But he stood there staring a moment too long, because Rufus looked up and glared at him, ever so lightly. Reeve bobbed his head and went back inside, where everyone looked at him in concern.

"She just needs some time," he said, not untruthfully.

"I thought she was being kind of weirdly cheerful," Jack commented.

"I never should have told that stupid story," Meryl said miserably.

"It wasn't the story, honey," said Naomi, shaking her head. "She misses her father. It just came down all at once. Sometimes that happens."

The rest of the bun-making went by in silence, though chatter from the normal staff resumed. When Meryl couldn't stand it anymore and went to look outside, Rufus, Dark Nation, and Toriko were nowhere to be seen.

They didn't see Toriko until the next morning, right before the launch. While the President and the Executives stood on a raised platform before the rocket, their families and guests of honor had seats facing Shin-Ra No. 26. The press had to stand around the edges. The neverending flash of their cameras made Reeve squint, but he was able to see Naomi, Rose, and Meryl find Toriko in the seats and sit with her. She looked tired, but not hyperactive (by Toriko standards) like yesterday. She'd gone back wearing dresses too, though Reeve wasn't sure if he should be relieved by that—her outfit today still had a distinctly military sort of styling to it.

_"I'll have to keep a closer eye on her,"_ he decided. _"She needs to have a normal father figure in her life. And the girls would like to have her around too."_

Obviously Toriko would miss Sephiroth for a very long time, but breaking into hysterical laughter and tears was not a normal response as far as Reeve knew.

Despite his worry and mild disillusionment, the quickening of excitement made Reeve smile as President Shin-Ra talked about the space program, the development of the rocket, and the betterment of all mankind. He couldn't help but glance at Palmer, whose round face shone with happiness. Reeve noticed that Scarlet and Heidegger were exchanging slightly bored and conspiratorial looks. Hojo was absent. And Rufus looked as bored as possible without being outright insubordinate, which he'd practically developed into an artform by this point. Reeve suppressed a wry smirk; young people always thought they knew how things should be run, but truthfully experience was the only thing that mattered. President Shin-Ra expounded on and on, and Reeve practiced his own artform; "paying" attention. Anyone looking at him straight on would have realized his eyes were unfocused, but from the press's vantage point and his own family's, he looked attentive indeed.

That was how Reeve spotted motion near the base of the rocket. It was not a blue-suited mechanic. It was someone in a white coat.

_"One of the engineers,"_ he thought. _"I hope it's not serious."_

"And a few words from our brave pilot, Captain Cid Highwind of the Shin-Ra Air Force."

Reeve glanced at the man climbing up to the stage. Late twenties, though he looked older; Reeve guessed he smoked. Fresh haircut and shave just for this occasion. He looked uncomfortable in the stiff dark blue dress uniform of the Air Force, but Reeve thought that was half nerves and half hatred of formal clothing. Reeve glanced at the man's hands and saw hair-fine dark semicircles of engine grease soaked into his nailbeds, which made him feel better about having the man behind the wheel. Captain Cid Highwind was a decorated war vet, though he'd made his name in the last two years of the fight, flying supplies into and out of hotly contested areas.

"Thank you," mumbled Captain Highwind as President Shin-Ra stepped away from the microphone. Captain Highwind pulled a stack of index cards out of his pocket, or tried to. A flurry of white cards fell to the ground, making the audience chuckle. Captain Highwind reddened and half-bent to pick them up, but at the last second he stood up and straightened his uniform. Reeve was just close enough to hear the man mutter, "Fuck it," under his breath.

This was either going to be a trainwreck or a highly entertaining trainwreck. Reeve grinned.

"M'name's Cid Highwind," said the man, bending awkwardly toward the microphone and making everyone wince as his voice boomed through the speakers. Reeve caught some of the press flapping their hands at him and Captain Highwid straightened, making his voice drop to a normal level. "Thanks for coming out. This here, uh... This... Damn it." He paled abruptly. "No, not damn it. I mean, shit." He looked even more horrified and Reeve stifled his snicker. The audience started laughing as Captain Highwind barreled on, apparently unable to stop himself. "I mean, fuck. I mean, #$%^&*(!"

Naomi looked absolutely horrified. Rose, Jack, and Meryl were cracking up.

But Toriko was looking at the rocket.

Before Reeve could wonder why, Captain Highwind went "AAAARGH!" and grabbed his head. He messed up his neatly pomaded hair and straightened again, but there was no wretched anxiety this time. There was a glint in his bright blue eyes that had probably served him well during the war, and even the wild mess on his head didn't detract from the man he now was.

"I've been wanting to fly my whole life, especially when people told me it was impossible," said Cid clearly. The audience quieted down and the press started taking pictures. "When Mr. Palmer and President Shin-Ra asked me if I wanted to pilot the first manned vehicle into space, of course I said yes. We've had troubles. We've had roadblocks. Weather, animals, supply, you name it. But I never lost sight of the goal."

He pointed up. Everyone looked up, even though it was a clear blue sky.

"That's us, ladies and gents," said Cid. The audience looked back at him, but Cid's eyes were still on the skies. "That's our life. That's our future. And thank you for letting me and the crew—tech and flight both—break the way for everyone else."

He stepped away from the podium. Polite applause came from the audience, but Reeve felt like giving the man a hug. His chest was full again, like it hadn't been since running into Palmer. As Cid came down the line of Executives, shaking hands with each, Reeve clasped his hand firmly and grinned as broadly as he could.

"Thank you," he said wholeheartedly.

Cid seemed stunned, but he mumbled, "Thank you," back and then got off the stage. Reeve sighed happily.

A flicker caught his eye. President Shin-Ra was coming up to speak again, but once again Toriko was looking at something else. Something she didn't like. The flicker that caught Reeve's eye was Toriko rising from her seat, something that made her gray-green eyes narrow into slits. Reeve followed her line of vision, which led directly to the stage. Reeve looked down just in time to see the first curl of smoke coming up from between President Shin-Ra's feet.

_"What the—?"_

A blue blur rushed from the back of the stage and yanked President Shin-Ra off his feet. Reeve yelled as something grabbed him from behind and threw him off the platform; Reeve landed in a Turk's arms.

"Sorry," said the Turk. He didn't look familiar, but Reeve wasn't worried about that; he didn't have much to do with them. "Mechanical fai—"

A gunshot cracked the air. Reeve spun and saw Scarlet swinging a pistol at him, her eyes sharp as chips of diamond. Someone in a blue suit who used to have two eyes fell past her.

"Not a Turk," she snarled, her eyes on Reeve's rescuer. She shot again. Reeve barely shut his eyes in time before the false Turk's head jerked back. The next second, Reeve hit the ground, his breath popping out of him in shock rather than horror. Something warm was on his face but he couldn't acknowledge what it was just yet.

Scarlet shrieked as someone grabbed her from behind. Reeve saw it now, the suit that was too blue and had buttons of zippers. What a stupid mistake for these people to make, though Reeve hadn't noticed. Reeve yelped as someone grabbed him too.

"Nice and quiet, Director," said an unfamiliar voice. "Or—"

Lightning blasted by Reeve and his attacker, making even his beard hairs stand up. A blue-black blur flowed like a nightmare among them, all flashing white teeth and a growl from Satan himself. Reeve blindly threw himself forward and out of the corner of his eye, saw Scarlet go limp on purpose. As the fake Turk grabbing her staggered, she twisted in his arms and did something to his crotch that made the man scream and nearly faint. Reeve didn't have time to turn away before she shot him in the head.

"Where were you even hiding that?" Reeve demanded.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she quipped, shooting twice past his head. Reeve did not turn to see if someone was still behind him. He ran for the woods, Scarlet a glittering red mass by his side.

This was not the first time the Executives had come under attack, though they'd never been shot at all together. Where were the Turks?

_"Probably dead, if they've been swapped with fakes..."_

"Miss Scarlet, here!"

"Bless his fat heart," Scarlet muttered as Heidegger waved at them from the shadows of the trees. "I might even put out."

"Ew," said Reeve.

As they reached the trees, Reeve saw that Heidegger had two large handguns. He glanced at the pistol in Scarlet's hand.

"Are you out?" He asked.

"Five left," she said.

"Good," said Heidegger. Reeve stiffened as Heidegger looked at him and said, "You shoot?"

"Uhh..."

"You in the middle. Miss Scarlet, the rear?"

"Where are we going?" Scarlet asked, stepping behind Reeve.

"Rocket workshop," said Heidegger. His eyes glinted in the forest-shadowed darkness as he looked around. "Stay close."

Heidegger was definitely no Sephiroth, but he moved with surprising quiet and agility through the shadowed woods, his gun held in an expert grip. Reeve clung as close as he dared, powerfully aware that if he gave voice to his usual yells of shock, he might die by friendly fire. Fortunately the rocket workshop wasn't far, and once they got through the woods a group of army soldiers spotted them.

"Ours?" Scarlet asked Heidegger as they approached. Heidegger nodded curtly but did not let go of his gun until they were all inside the rocket workshop. It was tight; there were still bits of machinery and testing equipment spread around the room, but enclosed in triple ranks of armed soldiers, Reeve nevertheless breathed a sigh of relief. Turks, real ones, were standing guard also, though they looked rather worse for wear; materia healed the wounds but the burnt and bloodstained clothing remained. Reeve counted, knowing that two always went with President Shin-Ra and one usually went with Toriko and Rufus each.

"Where are the guests?" Reeve asked, looking at Heidegger.

"Hangar," said Heidegger. "Worried about your wife and kids, are you? They'll be fine." He looked at his soldiers with pride, saying, "I won't speak ill of the dead, but against rabble like this, quantity is more important than quality."

Reeve did not miss the annoyed looks from some of the soldiers. Well, he'd be annoyed too in their place. No one liked being insulted.

"Rabble?" Palmer asked. As he wiped his sweating face with an already-damp hankie, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"They seemed pretty organized to me," said Scarlet. She hadn't let go of her weapon either, and Reeve wasn't sure if he should be glad or worried that she constantly scanned the area. The sight of dried blood flecking her arm made Reeve wipe at his face, though he didn't look any longer at the blood on his sleeve than he had to. There was a lot of it. "What's the plan?"

"Wait for the sweep," said Heidegger. "And—"

"Where's Rufus?" President Shin-Ra interrupted.

Everyone looked around. They were in a fairly tight circle, half-shielded by a failed escape pod. It took less than five seconds for everyone to realize someone was missing.

"Shit," said Heidegger. President Shin-Ra opened his mouth, but instantly Heidegger whirled on the nearest commander, shouting, "YOU! Where is the Vice President?!"

"Sir, no squad reports him emerging from the woods," said the man, saluting sharply. "No body matching his description has turned up in the search either."

"They were trying to make us go with them," said Reeve thoughtfully, thinking about the fake Turk. "So he's probably alright."

"They took him hostage," Scarlet murmured. She exhaled hard, shaking her head. "Well, if it had to be anyone, at least he's had experience with this before."

"My son is young, unarmed, and far too 'smart' for his own good," grated President Shin-Ra. To Heidegger he said, "Find him. Use whatever you need."

Heidegger nodded sharply and gestured at six of the soldiers in the inner rank. They left immediately, giving President Shin-Ra more room to pace. Reeve took his phone from his pocket and dialed Naomi. She picked up almost immediately.

"Reeve?!"

"Hey honey, I'm alright," he said. "How are the kids?"

"The girls and Jack are fine," said Naomi. "But we lost Toriko."

"...what?"

"When the stage caught on fire—"

"The stage caught on fire?"

"Yes, right after all of you disappeared. The soldiers evacuated us, but we lost Toriko in the mess. She just disappeared!"

"She's a smart girl," said Reeve. "And remember who her father was."

"I feel so _stupid,_ I should have made sure—"

"Naomi, it's okay. You did the best you could." Reeve glanced around. Everyone was looking at him with varying degrees of annoyance, so hastily he said, "I'll call again when it's time to meet up, okay? Business calls."

"Love you, honey."

"Love you, bunny." He hung up, only slightly embarrassed to be overheard. To President Shin-Ra he said, "It seems like Toriko's gone missing too."

"Dangerous time to be a Shin-Ra," drawled Scarlet, but her grip on her pistol only tightened.

"Wonderful," muttered President Shin-Ra. To another commander, he said, "Inform Heidegger that there are likely two hostages about, Rufus and Toriko."

Reeve thought about Toriko's ease in the woods. And how wide the skirt on her green dress had been. She'd be able to run like the wind. He thought about how easily she handled her knife. And how she could see the irv, which only few SOLDIERS had ever been able to do. He thought about how close she'd been with Rufus lately, and the memory of her hysterical laughter seemed to burn in his ears.

_"Please God, if you're listening, let Toriko be a hostage. Tied up somewhere, unconscious. Because if she's not, I think she's going to do something stupid and she's going to get hurt. She's still a kid."_

Unconsciously Reeve started pacing as well.

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: Mweeheehee. See you in about 3 weeks.

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	7. EXTRA: Seishi sidestory

My Vietnam

14 June 2014

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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

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Seishi

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Ten different papers, seven from the Continents, two from unaffiliated states, and one from Wutai, all saying the same thing. The Continental ones were full of grief and pathos. The unaffiliated states were respectful. The Wutaiese one was very clinical, but between the lines there was a great deal of glee that warmed Seishi's heart.

Sephiroth was dead.

The last of her rapists was finally dead.

Seishi ran her hands over the papers, caressing them with hands that were more bandage than flesh at this point. Every paper had a picture. A different picture of the man that all Wutai hated, the man whom no one hated more than Seishi. Those green eyes burned in her nightmares and glowed before her when remembered fear struck again. That long white hair, bleached dead like dried bones, wrapping around her fingers and throat. The papers wrote about his strength and his discipline but only Seishi knew what he smelled like; blood, iron, musk, and the sour tang of unrestrained cruelty. They were such nice pictures. None of them showed any trace of the man who broke her arms just by squeezing, nor of the one who had crippled her just to prove a point. Sadist. Torturer.

And all at the tender age of seventeen.

Two pictures stood above the rest. The first was from the Wutaiese paper, not showing Sephiroth as he was now but as he appeared as The Great Demon. Taken during the first disastrous attempt at peace, he was the epitome of an arrogant son-of-a-bitch, contempt shining from his eyes and his hair pulled up in that high, long tail. He wore his armored coat and a high-necked chainmail shirt to a _peace_ conference, all but ready to start killing again. Hours after this picture was taken, he had. It had been a very badly executed conference.

The other picture was more recent, taken probably within the last year. It was shockingly domestic. Sephiroth, thinner of face and thicker of frame, wearing a plain black suit and a white shirt without a tie, catching his daughter as she jumped out of a tree. It was definitely a staged shot, but a lovely one. In a flowing white dress of haute couture, the daughter looked as beautiful and light as a fairy.

Just like Seishi had at that age.

Seishi ran deadened fingertips over her daughter's face. Toriko, Tori-chan, how tall she had become. It physically pained Seishi to see the joy on her face as she looked into her father's eyes, but like everything else in her body, her ability to feel distress was dying too. Love remained, though. And Seishi loved her daughter more than she hated her rapist. The most terrible gamble of her life had paid off, though had Seishi known she would live so long, she never would have let Toriko go when she was only seven.

"_I honestly thought I would die that month... The pain was so bad. How could I know it would get even worse?"_

These days, Seishi could sit up, feed herself, and write. Everything below the waist was practically dead, somewhere between paralyzed and rotting. She'd stubbed her toe a few months ago and the flesh had split open inside the bandages, soaking the gauze with blood and pus for a whole day before anyone had noticed—and it hadn't been Seishi. Now she was without her right leg from the knee down. Ironically she had more sensation out of this phantom limb than she'd had from the real one; in the night she woke up from hypnic jerks and kicking at imaginary assailants.

Little Tori-chan had never cared about that. When Seishi woke gasping in the night, her nightmares ablaze with green eyes and black leather, Toriko had always been awake. So quiet, so attentive. She'd wiped Seishi's fevered brow and changed her bandages every day, never complaining or being difficult in the least. It was like she knew that her birth had nearly killed her mother, first during the actual birthing process and then later, when Lord Shusaku had thrown both of them into the street. Oh, Seishi had been tempted to drop her into a gutter then...

...but Toriko hadn't had any more choice about being born than Seishi herself had, and she had looked too much like Seishi's little sister. Poor Shicho. She had died of starvation at barely three years old, following their mother by a few days. It was so wrong. The _okamisan_ had paid plenty to have Seishi in her house and the money should have been enough to support a family of three. Instead Seishi's worthless father had run off with the lump sum and left his wife and daughter alone. By the time Seishi found out about the perfidy, it was too late.

_(Well, it had been too late _then. _Revenge was still sweet twenty years later.)_

"Wait for me, little sister," Seishi murmured. "I'll be there soon."

"Mistress?" Soft little footsteps from behind. "Did you need something?"

"Nothing, Yoko."

Despite the dismissal, Yoko came and fluffed the pillows at Seishi's back. She was almost as attentive as Toriko, but then no one could match Toriko's gift for knowing exactly when and what was needed. Seishi looked at her handmaid with a cool eye, not for the first time. Yoko and Tsukiko were useful girls, but she'd adopted them in a fit of weakness; peas in a pod, the twins had reminded her powerfully of her own lost daughter. Now, however, they were growing up and while they were cute, they looked nothing like the Toriko of now. They were fullblood Wutaiese, which had never seemed more irritating than at this moment.

"_Calm yourself, Seishi. You miss your child. It's natural. But you can't fault the girls for not being Toriko."_

"Yoko, bring Nanashi to me," said Seishi. Nanashi, known publicly as Mineko, ran the Blue Lotus _o-chaya_ for Seishi, but before she had become the boss she had been Seishi's right hand...

...and her blade.

And as Nanashi came to the small, dark chambers that Seishi had set aside for herself, Seishi was pleased to see that years of business management had not visibly softened the kunoichi's figure.

"How may I be of service, my lady?" Nanashi asked, kneeling. It was as much to see Seishi as it was to show respect.

"I want you to contact my daughter," said Seishi, and Nanashi tensed. "I want to see her."

"I will do my best, my lady," said Nanashi. "However, the Shin-Ra have closed ranks about her since the Demon's demise. This assignment may take some time."

"See that it does not," said Seishi. "I have a limited amount of time."

Nanashi's lips thinned. Normally she argued with Seishi, saying that she would be fine, she wasn't about to die. But Nanashi had seen enough people pass away that she could smell death coming for someone. Those were her words. Seishi had always smelled of rotting meat from the disease, but Nanashi told her that the smell had changed; it had become very bitter, much like when an organ was pierced. That was when the hollow reassurances had stopped.

"I'll do my best," Nanashi repeated, not unkindly. "Do you have any message for her or anything you want me to take?"

"Indeed I do," said Seishi. "Toriko has gotten taller and her reach has changed. She's old enough for real katana, don't you think?"

"Old enough, yes. Willing enough? I doubt it," said Nanashi frankly. "She had a hard enough time hitting opponents with _sakabatou_ the last time I saw her and it was never due to a lack of skill."

"She may hate violence all she likes as long as she is versed in it," said Seishi. "With the De... Her father gone, she will need all the strength she can muster."

"Do you think she's under attack, my lady?"

"No. But she is vulnerable, and the four year gap between me giving her to the Turks and her appearance at her father's side bodes ill." Seishi looked at Yoko, who was waiting by the door. "Yoko, bring me the boxes."

"Boxes?" Nanashi repeated.

"Katana are hard. There's also a soft present."

In a while Yoko reappeared, followed by a somewhat sleepy Tsukiko; both handmaidens were rarely awake at the same time, finding that if one worked while the other slept, Seishi would never lack for care. Each girl stayed awake for about twenty hours and slept for eight, causing overlaps at peculiar times.

"One of your old kimono, my lady?" Nanashi asked, eyeing the wide, flat box Tsukiko brought in.

"The very last," said Seishi. "My very favorite. I would like very much to see my child wear it before I died."

"Then would it not be more prudent to have it waiting for her here?"

"That kimono is to go to my daughter at all costs," said Seishi, her one good eye narrowing. "I would prefer to see her in it. But I also accept that it may not come to pass."

Nanashi sighed. Dipping her head, she said, "My lady, I will deliver these presents for you. And I will relay your request. But..."

"That is all that needs said," said Seishi. "You are dismissed. Yoko, Tsukiko, help Nanashi pack."

"Yes my lady," they all chorused. Once they had left the room, Seishi sank back against the pillows and shut her eyes. There were some other things for Toriko too, if she wanted them. So far she hadn't rejected any present Seishi had sent her, but she had always been so quiet and dutiful that knowing her real mind had been, well... Almost impossible.

"_She told me that she loves me very much, so why is she not here? Why has she not left the Shin-Ra to be at my side? She is wealthy now and she has influence of her own. She could be here."_

Toriko hated her on some level. It was the only logical explanation and one that Seishi could understand all too well. What sort of person would try to kill her child, no matter the cost to herself? What mother would think about smothering said child after birth? That phase hadn't lasted very long, but the memory of her treachery haunted her almost as much as green eyes did.

"_I sent her away. It was really for her own good."_

Whatever Sephiroth had been to Seishi, he had been a better parent to Toriko than Seishi had. Seishi could admit that much. With Sephiroth, Toriko never starved or hid in the streets. She never had to see _him_ disgrace himself with drunks and beggars. She never had strangers try to kill her and tell her that she should die.

Instead, Toriko had wealth and status. As a child of the Shusaku family, she _should _have been nobility. She _should_ have inherited large amounts of land and wealth, as the first and only child of Lord Shusaku. But no, the old bastard was determined to have a son, a fullblooded son, never mind that ten years of striving on three different women had produced nothing. Oh, Seishi hated Sephiroth with her entire being, but there were definitely fibers of herself that hated Shusaku alone. Served him right he'd died without an heir. Served his two older wives right that he'd forgotten to leave them anything, and now they lived as dowerless spinsters in their girlhood homes while Shusaku's nephew took over his holdings. Perhaps it was better that Toriko hadn't been raised as a Wutaiese noble. As the Shin-Ra Princess, she had the world at her feet.

"_So why would she ever come to see a wretched half-mother?"_

Closure. They both needed closure. That was it. Seishi wanted to see the child she never/always wanted one more time.

"_I was cruel to her when last we met. That is not the last memory of me that I want her to have. There is so little time to make more."_

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: Looking forward to getting into this relationship more too.

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	8. The look upon their faces

My Vietnam

17 June 2014

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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

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_The look upon their faces_

/\/\/\/\/\

The day of the launch, Toriko woke up feeling like crap. It was a rare feeling. It wasn't until after a breakfast of fruit and tea that she realized she felt emotionally unwell, not simply tired. Fortunately she had always been an early riser, so after eating Toriko lay back down and stared up at the ceiling. The best way to exercise her mind was to make sure nothing else was moving.

_"What's wrong?"_ asked a voice. She knew it was only her own objective mind, but it sounded an awful lot like Father.

_"I'm tired," _she told herself. _"It's been a whole month with nothing from or about Father. I don't know what to do anymore. If only I could see that mission file..."_

_ "Why do you need the file?"_

_ "Because it would tell me everything. Or at least, give me the cover-up version of what's going on."_

_ "What's going on?"_

It was amazing much she could annoy herself. Toriko rolled onto her side and curled into a tight ball, shutting her eyes and muffling her ears. If she tried hard enough, maybe she could imagine herself at home in her own bed, with her three heavy blankets and fluffy pillows. She could almost hear the whistle of the kettle that boiled on a stove with one disabled burner, because Sephiroth liked to amuse himself by casting Fire spells at the gas range...

"Don't start," she hissed as her eyes began to burn. It was one thing to remember a memory, but cracking to pieces over one was utterly disgusting. Father would be so disappointed. She was not going to act like any more of a weakling while he was gone. She simply couldn't. She had really lucked out yesterday with Reeve and Rufus, though a quiet voice wondered if she'd been able to cry _because_ they'd been there and she knew they wouldn't hold tears against her.

Would they still let her cry, though, if they knew the actual reason? They thought it was grief when yesterday, Toriko had been drowning under waves of anxiety and frustration.

_"Seven weeks. Forty-nine days of hiding and trying to find information from Rufus and Hojo and _NOTHING. _I feel like I'm losing my mind. It's like that mission doesn't exist for anyone else but me and Father."_

_ "Just Father?" _asked that damnable objective voice. As she growled in irritation, the voice asked again, _"We know he was never allowed to solo missions. Not even during wartime, unless things were really bad. The Shin-Ra always wanted eyes on him. That's never changed."_

That...never had. Sephiroth thought the Turks were his subordinates. Toriko thought differently, having been taken by them once before, and casual poking in Reno, Rude, and Tseng's heads confirmed her suspicion that the Turks let themselves be ordered by Sephiroth in order to keep an eye on him. About the only time they weren't watching him was when he was on a mission.

_ "So... Who went with Father on his final mission?"_

That was something. Hope quickened her pulse, but Toriko hadn't survived this long by giving in to manic emotion. Instead she exhaled and forcefully relaxed herself by staring at the woodgrain in the ceiling. With her abnormal eyesight, it was easy to pick out a hair-fine line and follow it from one end of the room to another.

It hurt to think about the last conversation she had ever had with Sephiroth, but now Toriko forced herself to remember it in its entirety, not just the high points. She shoved away the regret and guilt, pushed aside the lingering irritation, and went over what she could remember, word-by-word.

_"Father?"_

_ "Who else would it be?"_

_ "Someone informing me of your death. How is the mission going, Father?"_

_ "Well 've arrived in Nibelheim. No monsters yet, save the dragon on the way here. Zack dispatched it. Mostly."_

This time Toriko couldn't calm herself with a breath. She gripped her blanket in both hands, her pulse hammering against her skin.

_"I was foolish. Obviously all information about Father will be locked down, but Zack is merely a SOLDIER First Class. Finding out about _his_ last mission should be much easier. And even if I hit the same wall, I can at least talk to the Seventh. Maybe even his girlfriend if I can track her down. They have to know something. People always let something slip."_

Energized, Toriko sat up. The humiliating breakdown yesterday seemed like a bad dream and completely illogical. She had a new plan now, and while she didn't know how fruitful it would be, it was better than nothing.

_"I still won't give up on that mission file, but there's nothing saying I can have only one iron in the fire."_

The launch was today, which demanded a fancier outfit. Toriko set aside the durable shirts and cargo pants and took out a linen garment bag with several Elaine creations within. After considering the weather, Toriko selected up a high-collared and long-sleeved black shirt and paired it with an olive drab jacket and skirt with gold buttons and black borders. She put on fancier boots, though like every shoe she owned, these had been re-soled with a softer crepe-rubber mix that wore out quickly but turned her steps into whispers and gave her traction on extremely steep grades. This was a carryover from Sephiroth and Sensei, who was very clear on the importance of appropriate footwear. And just as important as the tread of a shoe was its ability to hide weaponry, so Toriko changed out the materia in her screw-off heels and transferred the throwing knives from one pair of boots to the other.

Her pocket knife went in her skirt pocket and a pair of longer blades got holstered to her thighs, hidden by the voluminous skirt. Ever since Sephiroth's disappearance, Toriko had taken to making sure she was armed at all times, even when she was with Rufus; safety was a thing of the past. The materia in her shoes were a mastered Barrier and a mastered Mystify, which would give her maximum time to escape in most situations. Toriko turned the Touph Ring on her finger several times, both for luck and also to make sure it was still in good condition. Even with her enhanced strength, every bit of defense helped (though she still had no idea how a little ring could raise her physical defense and spell defense so much).

As an afterthought, Toriko brushed her hair and put on a bit of makeup.

Rufus and Reeve had already left for the launch ceremony, so Toriko met Naomi and the kids downstairs. She braced herself for a flood of "how are you doing" questions, but instead Naomi looked her over and apparently decided she was alright.

"You look like you had a good rest," she said.

"I did," said Toriko. "And you?"

"I slept well too," said Naomi. Chuckling, she added, "Though Reeve was so excited he went out for a walk and then tossed and turned all night."

"I just wanna know why it has to be so eeeearly," Meryl yawned. She was nicely attired as well, wearing a light dress that was more suited to the season but perhaps not the temperature. Fortunately Meryl always ran hot. "This is earlier than school."

"Try having an early class at college," said Rose, who looked lovely in her customary pink. Her boyfriend cleaned up nicely as well, though Toriko caught the faint red line of a shaving cut on his cheek.

They walked to the launch site, talking about Rose's career (she was hoping to go into the Midgar Orchestra after her program was done) as the sun rose leisurely above the trees. Toriko looked at the rocket more than once. It was impossible not to, considering its size alone, but Toriko saw the hours put into building the thing. Not just building it, but conceptualizing it, making it fit together and work. Some of the pieces on the outer sheathing were huge and had probably been custom-forged. All of the internal electronics were elaborate and no few of those had probably been made just for this mission. Shin-Ra No. 26 was truly a unique existence, and in the morning light it seemed to shimmer gold with the hope and hard work of hundreds.

And it was going to fail.

By the time they got to the launch reception area, Toriko was feeling like crap again and no matter how often she told herself to suck it up, guilt made her stomach churn. She could see happy excited faces everywhere she looked, from the mechanics in blue to the grease-fingered engineers in pristine white lab coats. No one looked guilty, which made Toriko feel even worse. And seeing Captain Highwind, painstaking groomed and shining with enthusiasm, made her want to fake an illness and go back to the inn.

She deliberately ignored President Shin-Ra's entire speech, unable to look away from the rocket. They would be watching the actual launch from a certain distance away and after the failure, it would probably be scrapped for parts, so this was the last and only time she could see something so magnificent. Even so, Toriko almost missed the engineer running into the rocket, some distress making her otherwise pretty face pale. Toriko chewed the inside of her cheek and wondered if she'd discovered their sabotage or something else. Having the rocket fail was not as important as it had been now that Toriko had another plan.

Traitorously she began to hope that the rocket would launch after all.

It was then that she noticed several Turks moving toward the stage.

Since Sephiroth's disappearance, the amount of overt surveillance on her had practically vanished, which was why she'd been able to come to Rocket Town alone. Nevertheless Toriko was familiar with all the Turks on the roster, at least when it came to their faces. They'd always rotated bodyguard duty, though Tseng, Reno, and Rude were the ones she saw most frequently. So the instant the Turks appeared, Toriko naturally took notice.

And she noticed that something was not right.

But before Toriko could put a label on her worry, she saw a flicker of something under the stage. She focused on it like Sephiroth had told her and mundane colors greyed out slightly, becoming more textured instead. Warmth shimmered in the people sitting around her, but the thing under the stage seemed to surge and shine. It was hot. And it was getting bigger.

"Fire," she exclaimed softly.

"Huh?" Meryl looked at her.

"There's a fire," said Toriko, jerking her head at the smoke that was just starting to appear. "Under the stage. Look right over—oh."

"Dad!" Meryl shrieked as smoke began to billow from the podium. A cry of horror went up from the audience, but infantrymen, flown in for security and pomp, instantly surrounded the press and guest seating and started hustling them to a safe place. Toriko ducked and squeezed out, breezing underneath the arm of a soldier who was too busy trying to herd panicking civilians. It wasn't until she reached the stage that Toriko realized she had no idea what she was doing.

_"Why did I run up here?"_

Gunshots made her run faster, but when Toriko arrived, all she saw were dead bodies and Scarlet and Reeve running for the trees. She nearly started after them, but a musky animal scent she'd become very familiar with hit her like a hammer and she nearly sneezed. Dark Nation had passed through here, but hadn't gone with Scarlet and Reeve. Therefore, Rufus was not with Scarlet and Reeve.

_"Fake Turks, a stage accident, and now Rufus is gone. Kidnapping."_

Only one group had the guts and the organization to pull off something this brazen. Considering how Rufus hadn't wanted to give AVALANCHE any attention in the first place, Toriko nearly laughed.

Instead she remembered Wutai, with Rufus in chains and homicidal kunoichi everywhere.

Toriko wavered. Back then she had retrieved Sephiroth's weapons and materia, knowing he'd be able to take care of himself, but Rufus was merely a good shot and more importantly, only human. Toriko mentally reviewed her inventory and cursed; everything she had would help _her_, not anyone else. But fake Turks meant the real ones were dead or indisposed, and as far as she knew, no one else knew Rufus had been snatched.

_"The sooner he's free, the better. AVALANCHE has never been stable. And if Rufus dies..."_

No more Nii-san. No more mission file. Both were unacceptable.

Toriko followed the scent of Dark Nation, which was fading every second; the pantheround was covering serious ground. At the same time Toriko concentrated on the earth, looking for the irv, and saw shimmering pawprints on barely bent grass, each spaced more than six feet apart as Dark Nation all but flew over the ground. Toriko followed the vanishing scent and pawprints, which took more concentration than she would have liked. She ran into the trees without looking around, but fortunately caught herself before she ran out into a clearing like an idiot. Dark Nation was nowhere to be found around here, but there was only one structure in the vicinity that would be able to house a valuable hostage, but...

_"Oh dear. Are they that foolish? Or that clever? I suppose putting your hostage in a rocket is one way to protect yourself."_

Regular army troopers would not be good in this situation; they were armed with pistols and machine guns, both of which were a terrible idea in a fragile structure surrounded by incredibly explosive fuel. Toriko stepped back into the shadows of the trees and pondered what to do.

_"I should wait for the Turks... I don't know what I'm doing..."_

_ "On the other hand... I'm armed with weapons suited to close-quarters combat. I know Rufus is here. I have no idea when the Turks will come or if any of them are even alive. I am at least as strong as a Second Class SOLDIER, I have training from one of the best kunoichi alive, and I can read minds."_

With a laundry list of such credentials, she should have run forward. She should have instantly begun a rescue. Instead Toriko stepped back again. Emotions that changed too quickly to name roiled in her chest.

_"If I die, I'll never learn the truth about Father or Zack. And in Wutai, I almost died. Father isn't here to help me and Rufus is a good shot, but not a killer."_

Which meant she would have to kill, if it came down to that.

The idea was strangely abhorrent. Toriko was not particularly bothered by dead bodies or violence, but being complicit in either—or worse, both—was something that made her ill. Nearly forgotten fear made her shoulder burn in the place where a dead kunoichi had fatally—well, nearly fatally—stabbed her.

_"You're not eleven anymore!" _hissed a voice that sounded very much like Father when he was at his unreasonable worst. _"And it's a simple solution; just kill the enemy before they can wound you."_

_ "I'm not worried about hurt,"_ she thought, fighting against the throbbing memory of death coming near._ "I just don't want to inflict that sort of fear on anyone else."_

_"Then Rufus is going to die and it's going to be inescapably your fault."_

They wouldn't kill him, she told herself. If AVALANCHE had taken him hostage, they had a plan that counted on him being alive. But alive didn't necessarily mean 'unhurt'...

_"I don't have to kill anyone, or even rescue Rufus," _Toriko realized._ "I just have to make sure they don't hurt him. I can do that. I can protect someone."_

The emotions settled to a low simmer. Toriko exhaled the last of her hesitation and took a fresh look at the scene. Ahead of her, the rocket was surrounded by open grass and now that it was fully morning, there wasn't even mist in the two hundred yards between the trees and the rocket itself. Hell, Toriko could see human figures around the front of the rocket, their eyes trained for intruders. She looked up and saw two more figures near the top of the rocket scaffolding, lying flat with long, distinctive guns.

_"So they brought snipers too. Hiding in the rocket must have been their plan all along."_

Toriko chewed her nail. This was going to be harder than she thought.

_"On the other hand, I don't see Dark Nation, I didn't hear any gunshots, and I certainly didn't see a dead pantheround on the way here. So he got through somehow, or he's on the approach. How?"_

Toriko looked more closely at the snipers. They were prone and scanning the horizon like pros, but Toriko spotted their problem almost instantly and nearly laughed. Just to be sure, she stepped back into the trees and jogged a quarter-circle around the rocket, maintaining cover in the flickering shadows.

_"Oh my goodness, they really are that dumb. Why would have they have snipers but no spotters?"_

Snipers were great as long as they knew what to shoot at; the problem with picking off targets from very far away was that their actual view was badly restricted, hence the necessity of a spotter. The spotter could see a wider range, call out positions to the snipers, and thus eliminate the enemy together. Silently Toriko thanked her absent father for making her read various operation manuals in preparation for a military education.

_"Amateurs,"_ Toriko decided as she considered her next move. _"They must be amateurs. Still, AVALANCHE wouldn't bother arming them and taking them along if they couldn't actually hit what they were aiming at, so I can't let them see me."_

After studying the rocket again, Toriko was satisfied that there were no other people other than the door guards and the snipers up top. Still shaking her head, she took a calming breath and "reached" for the Barrier materia in her boot heel. Most people preferred to carry Materia in their weapons and armor, since skin contact (or very close contact) was necessary to cast. In her boot heel, the Barrier orb was less than a quarter-inch away from her foot, which was more than close enough to use. Still, it felt weird having cold, slimy energy running up her left leg and into her butt before it settled in her chest, coalescing into the form that she wanted it to take. Casting from the upper body was much more comfortable. Toriko willed the power into her hand, where it pulsed against the confines of her skin. It was going to get really uncomfortable and dangerous in a few moments, but she touched her fist to her head, keeping a very specific mental image in mind.

"Reflect," Toriko whispered. She opened her hand and blew across her palm, something she only did for very tricky materia applications such as these. The spell blossomed from her hand, but instead of surging forth in the usual spell-reflecting barrier, it instead wrapped around her body in a haze of greenish sparkles. A second later, Toriko looked at her hand and nodded in satisfaction; her body had turned reflective.

_"The reason that Reflect works as a magic-bouncing barrier is because it alters the perception of light," _said a memory of Sephiroth from long ago. _"Unlike M-Barrier, which simply absorbs magic, Reflect makes casters think the target is elsewhere, and the incorrect release of magic is what causes the spell to 'bounce back'; in reality, the magic is blowing up in the caster's face. Using this visual distortion property, it is possible to make Reflect work as a camouflage field."_

Toriko set off, walking slowly toward the rocket. The Reflect field was great for slow approaches and standing still, but quick movement made light flash off an enchanted body and the advanced application was very fragile. Already Toriko could feel the field fraying around her feet and knees, where the long grass kept brushing up against her, but running would only decay it more. Toriko estimated she could get about halfway across the field without anyone seeing anything other than the image of long, empty grass waving in the wind, but even knowing she was concealed, it was hideously nerve-wracking to slowly, deliberately walk straight toward armed terrorists.

_"It's a good thing I wore green today," _she thought for no good reason, and had to stuff back a nervous giggle.

The field fell off like dried leaves, forcing Toriko to drop to a crouch and then crawl on her hands and knees as the magic slowly decayed. She fought the rising panic with deep breaths and constant checking on the gunmen to make sure they weren't moving too much. The door guards were just barely visible from her position, but lazy about their surveillance; from the doorway, they only looked from shoulder to shoulder and stood side-by-side rather than back-to-back, so their blind spot was huge. And the snipers were scanning the treeline, not the grassy field, so as long as she didn't attract their notice, she was good.

_"These guys are idiots," _Toriko couldn't help but think. _"I should be on the lookout for a trap."_

If it were her, she would have covered the ground in mines. But she hadn't seen so much as a bottlecap out here and cautious poking in the AVALANCHE members' heads indicated nothing about explosives in the area. She did detect a certain amount of panic; apparently they were about a third down, thanks to Scarlet and Heidegger being quick on the draw and infantrymen running all about. Cautiously emboldened, Toriko rose into a low crouch and half-ran lightly through the grass. Her blood thudded in her ears; this motion was far, far more visible than walking in a camouflage field, but casting spells released a distinctive light that she couldn't afford. Toriko prayed AVALANCHE's stupidity would continue to work for her as she jogged toward the rocket in broad daylight.

It felt like a dream when she stood underneath the shadow of the massive scaffolding, but Toriko did not let herself feel relief. Instead she looked around the rocket's base. Above her, halfway up the rocket itself, was the main door that she was aware of that led into the rocket itself, and that was where the AVALANCHE gunmen were.

_"But I know there was an engineer here... I saw her run into the rocket. And she used... Ah-hah, that access door."_

There was nobody underneath the rocket's blasters and fuel tank, but Toriko proceeded carefully, checking every step and constantly listening both physically and mentally for anything near. The only thing around was a distracted mind ahead of her. Apparently the engineer was still inside the rocket and hadn't noticed a thing.

_"Must be nice to be so focused..."_

The door was slightly ajar when Toriko came to it. She drew her skirt knives and used one to open the door, standing well off to the side.

"Hello?" came a female voice.

Toriko ducked in. The engineer was indeed inside, but she hadn't even looked away from the console she was working on.

"Sorry," she said, sounding very distracted. "I know it's delaying everything, but I really have to get this fixed. I think I can patch the leak if I just reroute this line, but it's taking longer than I thought and I can't reach the bridge to let them know about the delay. I've been trying, I swear."

_"So intra-rocket communications have been destroyed or disabled,"_ thought Toriko, looking around. _"Which means if I run into people, they'll probably be using walkies to communicate and not the rocket's announcement system."_

As Toriko swapped out one of her skirt daggers for throwing knives, the engineer said, "It'll just be about ten more minutes. Umm... Okay, make that fifteen. Oh boy."

Toriko opened her mouth. She was going to tell the engineer to run and that things were dangerous here, but there was no way this tunnel-visioned woman would be able to get across the field without being shot. And it wasn't like she was going to go anywhere.

"Can you tell the Captain what's going on?" The engineer asked, finally looking over her shoulder. But Toriko had already moved, heading for a service ladder that went up into the rocket itself. She climbed fast, but not before she heard the engineer below going, "Thanks, you're a peach" and then getting back to work.

The service ladder was long and terminated in a hatch that opened directly overhead. Toriko sent her thought ahead and winced; there were four gunmen right above her, one of whom was standing right on the hatch itself. What to do...

_"I could push them off, but I'd lose the element of surprise..."_

Toriko called up the Mystify in her boot, this time touching her hand to the bottom of the hatch. Casting without seeing was hard, but not impossible; soldiers suffering from Darkness did it all the time, since magic was automatically attracted toward living bodies. As long as she aimed in a general direction, she could hit something.

"Confuse," she whispered as prickling, numbing power flew up the side of her body. Then for good measure, she cast another spell slightly off to the right, where another AVALANCHE gunmen was standing. "Berserk."

The result was better and worse than expected. Toriko shut her eyes, for all the good it did, as one of the gunmen started shooting at his "enemies" and his enraged friend shot back without caring who he was hitting. In a small, tight space, it was over in less than thirty seconds, though the groans and gasps of the dying didn't end for another minute.

It took Toriko another minute after that before she could steel herself to climb up the ladder and open the hatch, and only then because the sounds of battle would draw attention soon. If she didn't go now, what was the point?

Blood spilled down the sides of the hatch as soon as she opened it and Toriko flinched as more slid down the hatch to hit her hand and arm. Shaking off the disgust, she climbed up and couldn't stop herself from gasping in horror. There were no whole bodies in the hall anymore. The scent of bile and blood was thick enough to cut and for a moment her vision swayed. Toriko pressed her wrist to her mouth as her gorge rose, but it very nearly wasn't enough as she turned and saw a man with half a head, his brains spattered along the wall.

_"I did this. I did this."_

The world tilted. Toriko staggered, but the memory of her father's voice kept her upright.

_"If you're going to be ill, vomit instead. You don't have time to faint."_

Pounding footsteps at her back made Toriko turn automatically, horror puffing away in the fire of adrenaline. Nowhere to run except down the hatch, which was counterproductive. From the sound of it, there were three or four people running at her.

_ "Slice and dice? Same spell tactic? Wait, I could grab a gun and—"_

They came around the corner and skidded to a stop, utterly floored by the carnage in front of them. And like an idiot, Toriko stood among the bodies of their dead friends and stared back at them.

_ "What do I do?"_

"Bitch-ass motherfucker, I'll kill you!" One of the people screamed, swinging her gun up at Toriko's face. Toriko reacted like Sephiroth and Sensei had beat into her, though she wasn't entirely aware she'd thrown one of her knives until the would-be shooter dropped to the floor, crumpling on top of the knife in the hip. Just like target practice, right in the femoral artery.

And just like that, all hell broke loose.

The remaining people went for their guns, so Toriko moved too fast to be shot, automatically falling into the ground-eating zigzag path that Sensei had made her run until she'd wanted to pass out. By the time the remaining three managed to unholster and aim, she was already in their faces. It was not a long hall.

_"Big one first,"_ she thought, ramming the tallest and broadest of the AVALANCHE thugs with her shoulder. He went flying from the unexpected force, knocking down the two behind him. As they fell over, legs and guns flying into the air, Toriko whirled on one foot and kicked their weapons from their hands, the shock of riflery against her heel making her leg throb. The weaponry bounced down the hall, one rifle falling down the still-open hatch.

_"Finish,"_ she thought as she landed. _"No targets behind me."_

The wounded gunner lay groaning on the floor, shuddering and shaking. She managed to point her gun at Toriko, but Toriko grabbed the muzzle and tossed it down the hatch too, absently hoping she wouldn't hit the engineer below. Muscle memory made her raise her knife and aim for the throat, but then the gunner caught her eye.

"What the..." She blurted out, her already pale face going white. "You're a kid!"

"And you're in my way," said Toriko, but somehow the gunner's voice penetrated the cold fog in the worst way. Instead of slitting the woman's throat, Toriko leaned down and grabbed the handle of her throwing knife, gripping it hard to still her shaking hand.

"Once I pull this out, you have less than five minutes to live," said Toriko, her voice sounding oddly hollow. "But several standard recovery items will save your life, if applied all at once. You should have a few."

Toriko pulled the knife out, making the gunner scream. Blood fountained from the wound, spraying Toriko's sleeve and skirt.

"Good luck," said Toriko. She ran down the hall as the gunner's comrades managed to untangle themselves, and behind her she heard them scrambling for potions, their voices suffused with panicked concern instead of homicidal fury.

_"I guessed right," _she thought distantly. _"It's more important to save a comrade than complete an objective."_

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: Line crossed.

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	9. As I treated them

My Vietnam

30 July 2014

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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

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_As I treated them _

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The first time Rufus had been kidnapped, he had been six years old. It had more to do with him being an Aisling than a Shin-Ra, so as soon as he was extracted, his mother enrolled him in hostage deportment classes. Those had been 'fun'. Most of the other students were at least twelve or older, and it was a signal to all of them that Rufus was a much higher value target than they were. Whatever. Rufus learned to ignore people at an early age, or at least seem like he was ignoring them. He concentrated on his classes, so the next time he was kidnapped (age ten), he was nowhere near as frightened as the first time. He did not cry. He did not curl into a ball. He did not let the kidnappers drag him where they wanted.

Ultimately he ended up kidnapped anyway, and that was how he met Tseng. Rufus didn't end up living in Midgar with his father until he was fourteen, but in the four years before that, Tseng was almost as ubiquitous a presence as Malcolm. Except instead of fixing tea and cookies, Tseng fixed 'problems'.

Tseng also taught Rufus a bit of what was considered 'ungentlemanly fighting', so when the AVALANCHE thugs came, Rufus knew how to grab their oncoming fists and knee them in the back, how to crush noses and gouge eyeballs, and how to never stop shouting for help.

But he ended up kidnapped again anyway. A blow to the back of the head disoriented him too much to resist, and he didn't fully regain control of his senses until after his hands and feet had already been zip-tied around his back. Like his vision, his thoughts swam in and out of focus.

_"I should see if there's some sort of commemorative plate for breaking a record... 'Most times successfully kidnapped', that's me."_

Snide mental commentary was one way to keep the fear at bay. Rufus still remembered his hostage deportment instructor, with her steel-gray hair and piercingly pale eyes.

"There is never a time where your kidnappers will not hurt or kill you," she had said. "The chances of being returned home after ransom is paid is thin, and if they have something other than ransom in mind, your chances are even thinner."

Tseng's voice faded in, along with the phantom weight of a pistol in a child's hands. It was the first time Rufus had ever held a gun.

"I will _always_ come to get you," he'd said, and that had always been true. "So until I do, I need you to make note of things like how many people there are, where they're taking you, what sort of weaponry do they have. And it's very important that you don't antagonize anyone. No smart remarks, no laughter, definitely no insults. I can't get you and bring you home if they kill you."

Rufus took a calming breath, closed his eyes, and looked around once the worst of the pounding in his head had stopped. He suppressed a grimace when he realized where they were, not because of the cliché of picking such a visible hideout, but because the rocket itself was huge. Too huge.

_"How much money and material was spent to give twenty-foot-high ceilings to a vehicle meant to house one man?"_

There were five people in the room. Rufus zeroed in on three of them. Two had glowing eyes, but it was not the steady iris-glow of SOLDIERS. Their eyeballs, cornea and all, seemed to give off a faint light, which made Rufus realize that he was looking at some of AVALANCHE's augmented humans. According to the reports, they weren't nearly as tough as SOLDIERS, even Third-Class ones, but AVALANCHE was able to turn them out much faster than the six months it took the Company to convert its superhumans. They were armed with long swords with two materia slots each, though Rufus didn't see if they were filled.

The other person Rufus concentrated on was a tall, musclebound man wearing camouflage that was several years out of date. As though he could sense Rufus's eyes on him, he turned and looked. Rufus didn't like the look on his face. He seemed both intelligent and hardheaded, which suited a criminal but didn't bode well for Rufus's immediate future.

"So the sleeping prince awakes," said the man mockingly.

Rufus bit back the automatic snark and sat up straight, regarding the man coolly.

"Nothing to say?" The man asked.

_"Nobody worth speaking to," _thought Rufus, but again he kept that to himself. Aloud, he said, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that AVALANCHE is here."

"And why do you say that?" The man asked, resting a hand cannon his shoulder. He handled it with ease, which again did not bode well. Rufus guessed he was a veteran, one of the many displaced after the war, probably due to2 some of that 'post-traumatic stress' nonsense.

"Because if I were you," said Rufus, "I wouldn't miss a huge, very public opportunity to embarrass the Company either."

_"Which I was on track to do, but now everyone will be focused on you jokers again. The best-laid plans... Ugh. I suppose I'll have to derail the Highwind somehow."_

The man laughed, as did a few of the other AVALANCHE members. Rufus noticed they were all armed with machine guns, which seemed like a terrible idea in a thin-walled structure strapped to a skyscraper's worth of explosive fuel.

The man walked up to him. His name came to Rufus as he knelt before him, but knowing names only added to the surge of fear that came when the man—Shears—rested his gun on Rufus's knee. Rufus stayed very still but did not break eye contact.

"Ice cold, just like the papers say," said Shears. "I bet you don't even sweat."

Shears lifted his gun and touched Rufus on the cheek, turning his head from side to side with the barrel. Rufus reminded himself to inhale and exhale in a calm manner.

"That look of yours is pissing me off, rich boy," said Shears with a slight edge in his voice.

_"It's the only look I have,"_ thought Rufus. Scarlet had once told him about "resting bitch face", which was what people told her she had when she wasn't making any particular expression. He was pretty sure he had it too, though nobody ever said the word 'bitch' to his face.

"So what is it you're after?" Rufus asked, keeping his voice as polite as possible. "Perhaps we could work something out."

Shears actually threw back his head and laughed. "Go on, rich boy. Try and bribe me." He smirked in a singularly unpleasant manner as he added, "Tell me just how much you think your life is worth."

_"Don't fuck this up, Rufus. Don't fuck this up."_

"Solar power generator," said Rufus as clearly and confidently as he could.

Shears cocked his head. "...Come again?"

"When the Old Man rose to power, he bought out or burned out every other power company and he confiscated all their materials. I've seen plans for hydroelectric generators, biofuel generators—wind generators—even generators that make power from trash."

"Bullshit."

"And they're all yours if you do me a little favor."

"Oh? What sort of favor?"

"Destroy the rocket, but don't take credit."

"Ha!" Shears actually grinned. "Not 'let you go'?"

"That goes without saying," said Rufus evenly. "How else are you going to get the plans if you don't?"

Shears chewed his lip. Rufus waited quietly, hoping he'd played his cards right. Shears was the head of the anti-Company faction, but if he believed the Company could change—that if Rufus could change it—

"Nah," said Shears abruptly. The cold end of the barrel pressed against Rufus's forehead, forcing him back. "Nice try, rich boy. But even _if_ you follow through, we still have to put you with your corrupt, spoiled ass for God knows how long. Not to mention that we can't build any of that shit with the Company still around. We'll find those plans, IF they exist, when we burn your daddy's little empire to the ground."

"Killing me alone isn't going to do much," said Rufus, modulating his voice so he didn't babble. It was more difficult than expected. As a result, he started lying, which was a cheap alternative to his usual mix of omission and half-truths. "And don't think you can leverage me against the Old Man. I have more bastard brothers than I can count, and even a few that look like me." He shrugged, covering his trembling. "It's up to you. Would you rather destroy one Shin-Ra and have the entire weight of the Company come after you, or let me destroy them from within and create a future we're all happy with?"

"That future doesn't exist," said Shears, his voice becoming cold.

"It can," said Rufus. "If you're willing to take a chance."

Shears's eyes turned black with fury, but he pulled the gun away. A second later, white-hot pain exploded against Rufus's cheek as Shears slammed the end of the gun into his face.

"You don't fucking tell me to turn the other cheek, rich boy," he said, his voice low and vicious. "My father and brothers are dead because of the Company's war against Wutai. My mother died because she couldn't afford the medicine you fuckers monopolize. You seal us in a city-wide coffin and shoot us when we claw our way up."

A white-hot crack against his other cheek made him gasp. Rufus tried to blink the stars from his eyes, but all that did was let him see Shears stand up and draw his leg back. Rufus tightened his core just like Tseng had told him, but the first kick punched the air out of him.

"How **dare **you tell **me** that **I **have to give **you** a fucking **chance?"**

Shears kicked him over and over, punctuating his words with impact. It was all Rufus could do to hold onto consciousness, though every self-preservative instinct told him to just pass out and spare himself the agony. He tried to curl up to protect himself, but all that did was make him fall over; Shears didn't stop, just kicked him hard in the kidneys. Rufus gagged on a combination of blood and what he hoped was saliva. His shin hurt really, really badly.

"You don't have anything I want," said Shears as Rufus gasped for air. "Except the location of the safehouse you rat bastards retreat to in times like these. Where are the other Executives? I'll make it quick if you spit it out in the next ten seconds. Come on, speak up. I didn't kick your head." Shears knelt down, cocking his head again. "What was that, rich boy?"

_"He's going to kill me," _Rufus realized.

Well, let it never be said that Rufus Shin-Ra went out like a bitch.

He swallowed and spoke in a voice that was far stronger than he felt. "You're wasting a great opportunity."

Shears cocked the hammer on his gun. "Shut the fuck up. I am not listening to your cheap pitch any longer."

Rufus opened his eyes and looked at Shears. The man blinked. But his finger tightened on the trigger and Rufus gasped a final breath—

Rainbow light flared over his head and shattered almost instantly. But instead of oblivion, Rufus saw Shears's stunned face.

"What the—" Shears glanced at his gun.

There was a rapid patter of footsteps, like rain on a tin roof.

"Fuck!" One of the other men yelled. A second later there was a floor-shaking impact and the noise of someone retching. The sharp retort of a rifle on full auto made Rufus's head ache as the sound turned to high-pitched thunder in the rocket's dome.

"Who the fuck is that?!" One of the other gunners screamed. "What the fuck?!" Then a hideous, bone-chilling scream.

_"Finally," _thought Rufus. He lifted his eyes, expecting to see a whirl of blue suits, but instead he saw a gray-green blur racing around the wall of rocket, parallel to the floor. Two pinpoints of properly glowing Mako green seemed to leave trails in the air.

_"Oh no," _Rufus realized with sinking horror.

There was a burst of motion as one of the augmented AVALANCHE soldiers leapt into the air, his sword drawn back. The cry of panic caught in Rufus's throat as he swung at Toriko, but a rainbow flash seemed to eat the blow, popping the girl into the air instead of letting her be cut in half. Toriko twisted around like a cat as the second Raven leapt up to attack her, lashing out with an explosive kick that bounced him off the wall.

Fire suddenly burst to life around her, a reverse explosion that swarmed in on a target. Rufus's skin crawled at the intensity of the heat ripples in the air, but Toriko dropped to the ground unharmed. The Ravens advanced, but Shears cut them off with a word.

"Wait."

Toriko stood in the middle of the room, as alert and loose as a hunting cat. Rufus stared. Not because she was there—he had no doubt she was physically capable of breaking in. He'd seen her do it in Wutai, as impossible as it had been for him to believe that an eleven-year-old could break through ninjas and spear-wielding madwomen.

No, Rufus stared because Toriko was covered in blood.

_"She's hurt. No, she wouldn't move like that if she was hurt. So it's not her blood. Which means she cut someone and they bled, a lot. And her eyes. They only go that green when she's really upset."_

Toriko looked different than she had in Wutai, and it wasn't just the blood soaking her skirt, drying across her face and bare knees. There was an air of focus to her that Rufus had never seen before, one that was eerily like Sephiroth's. A long knife edged with gleaming blood was in her left hand.

_"Toriko, what have you turned into?"_

Toriko had always been smart. She'd always been pragmatic and a little ruthless, but she was reckless like kids were and there was no good reason for her to be here. She wasn't old enough. She wasn't trained enough, not for this. Deeply and acutely, Rufus felt _useless_.

"Well, shit," Shears said, looking her up and down. "I don't know if I'm really impressed or really disappointed. Did you actually cut your way in here, Princess?"

"You have something I want," she said, nodding her head at Rufus. Her voice was curiously flat. "And your people were in my way."

"Color me impressed, then," said Shears. Behind Toriko, the Ravens exchanged a look and began to sneak forward.

"You're being foolish," said Toriko. "Didn't your comrades tell you what happened the last time you idiots tried to hold President Shin-Ra's son hostage?"

"If you're talking about the Wutai debacle, that wasn't our fault," said Shears. "Fucking hellcats ruined it, and that's what you get when Fuhito runs things." He looked her up and down again and said, "I can see why he's taken with you. Didn't think he was into little girls, though."

Fuhito... Rufus recalled the urbane, bespectacled ringleader of the Wutai incident. He'd never been caught, but the Company had kept tabs on him as much as they were able. Rumor was that he was hiding in Cosmo Canyon, but the independent territory refused all attempts at investigation.

"You're Shears," said Toriko, her eyes narrowing. "Aren't you? I've seen your picture in Father's files."

"Oh?" Shears's brows rose. "Was your old man grooming you to take over or something?"

"Something," she said. "You're here to destroy the rocket, aren't you?"

"Smart girl," said Shears. He gestured and said, "What do you see when you look around?"

"Blinky lights," she said flatly. Rufus looked at her urgently, jerking his head at the two Ravens sneaking up behind her. She didn't seem to notice, which made his heart rate go up another few notches.

"I see a whole lotta waste," said Shears. "Billions of gil just flat-out wasted. All this money could could have been spent on schools, Princess. Feeding the hungry. Goddamn healthcare! Not like you care, though," he said, gesturing at her with his gun. "I bet you don't think of much past clothes and pretty knives."

"They are pretty engaging," said Toriko. "But if you knew anything about me, you'd know that I spent most of my life in squalor, so I care about poverty a bit more than you think."

"Pretty speech, but you actually don't give two shits," said Shears. "Otherwise you'd be doing something with all your money, wouldn't you?"

"Oh yes, all the money that I swim in... You jackass," she said sharply. As Shears blinked, she added, "I'm a minor and unemployed. That's why I need Rufus back, because if Rufus is dead, I go to the Old Man. And I don't think I need to tell you how _unpleasant_ a situation that would be."

The Ravens hesitated. Rufus took a chance. He couldn't very well shout "Watch out!" because they'd hurt her if they saw him moving, but if he distracted them, maybe she'd look around. There was bright light in here and they were standing in just the right place that their shadows would fall into her field of vision. Besides, if Rufus made too much of a fuss, Shears would kill him.

"She's not lying," said Rufus. "Sephiroth found out about it. And now he's dead."

"What?" Shears actually turned to look at him.

"You know better than anyone that AVALANCHE didn't off him," said Rufus. "So who do you think did? Someone who got close. Someone he even trusted."

Shears just stared, his face going tight. Rufus had guessed right; Shears was a veteran, and hate the Company though he might, he had just enough respect for the late General to be upset at this particular news.

"Please," said Toriko, a hint of a quaver in her voice. "Give Rufus back to me."

"...ahhh, fuck," said Shears, scratching his head through his bandana. With a sigh he turned to Toriko and said, "You're making me feel like a bad guy, Princess. But the answer's still no. I got a deal for you, though. You could run."

"What? Away with you?" Toriko laughed scornfully. Behind her, the Abnormals raised their weapons. One was aiming to cut off her head. The other was preparing for a thrust at her back. Rufus gasped in wordless alarm—

—but Toriko sprinted forward, somehow producing a second long knife, and charged right at Shears. He shot at her, shattering the rainbow-colored Wall, but Toriko dodged every shot. Fire swelled into being around her again, but she rolled through it like a professional, emerging unhurt near the rocket wall. Shears was between them. She charged, dodging through Shear's shots at incredibly close range. Rufus's heart seemed to leap into his throat as she actually caught Shears around the neck with her elbow, raising her other knife to threaten.

_"She's trying to take him hostage!"_

"Nope," said Shears, punching her in the stomach. Toriko gagged. That blow nearly sent her flying, but the haymaker to the temple smashed her into the rocket wall, the double impact making her vision go white for a second. Toriko staggered, barely managing to keep her feet. Rufus wrenched himself to a sitting position.

"Good try," Shears said, "But you're way too predictable."

"And you're stupid," said Toriko, shaking her head. "Say you kill us. Say you blow up the rocket. I didn't see any transport outside; therefore, you don't have an exit plan."

Toriko looked at the four AVALANCHE thugs now between her and the door, all of them eyeing her with varying degrees of wariness and fear. Rufus saw her take a deep breath. When she spoke, something about her voice seemed to itch his ears.

"He brought you here to die," she said, in a voice that brooked no argument. The AVALANCHE members paled. "He rejected a deal that would have got everyone out alive."

"Bullshit," said Shears, looking at his fighters. "The rich don't keep their promises, the Shin-Ra most of all. The instant we got out, we'd all get shot to pieces."

"He has no exit strategy," she said to them, her voice still throbbing with an authority beyond her years. "Your only chance is to capture him. I will vouch for you. So will the Vice President."

Shears laughed. "That has got to be one of the ballsiest things I've ever seen," he said to Toriko. "They're not gonna turn that easily. Everyone here is ready to die for the cause."

"Your only chance," she repeated slowly, making eye contact with each fighter, "is to capture Shears and surrender him to me."

The normals were sweating now, looking at each other. The Ravens noticed them looking at each other.

"Don't you fucking dare," one of them said to his friend.

"This was a dumb fucking idea," said one of the men. Rufus noticed his right hand was bleeding, all the fingers cut off. When had Toriko done that? "Blow up the rocket, fine. In and out. But kidnapping? Come on. We were not prepared for this shit, not enough. We should have just blown up the goddamn stage!"

"Or sniped them when they were all onstage," said the other gunman, looking at Shears. "Why did we do this?"

"You can't be serious," said Shears, staring at him. Rufus saw Toriko shift her weight slightly.

"Come on, Shears! Why didn't we shoot them during the speech?"

"Because of the Turk problem, dumbass," said one of the Ravens. "Which you'd know about if you were part of the assault team instead of hiding in this tin can all night."

"Because I didn't want to die!" The man started to shake, half from fear and half from blood loss. The severed stumps of his fingers seemed to bleed even harder as his agitation rose. "I don't want to die! Fuck! First we got Turks, then there's the army, then we got Miss Monster over there—"

"Stay cool," said the other Raven. "Come on."

"No! We're gonna fucking die for no reason, no matter what!"

"Confuse," Toriko whispered, looking straight at the sweating, pale, unbalanced, and _armed_ man.

The man started screaming and firing wildly, making everyone scramble for cover. Shears threw himself behind a control console, leaving a gap between Toriko and Rufus.

Toriko lunged at Rufus, severing the zip-ties around his wrists and ankles in two swift, economical motions.

"Can you run?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Can't even stand."

She nodded once and slung him onto her back like he was a sack of potatoes. Rufus felt something pop as she lifted him but bit back the cry of pain. One of the Ravens noticed they were moving.

"Hey, fuck!" He shouted. "No!"

"No yourself," said Toriko. "Your friend has a grenade."

Instantly all heads swiveled to the still wildly-firing gunman, but Toriko was already running for the door. Rufus hissed in pain as every step jolted his bruised body, but he had the good sense to simply grit his teeth and hold on tighter. The Ravens were between them and the door; Toriko ran around the outside edge of the room, her boots thudding against the metal floor.

"Shit!" she half-yelled as a four-gunman team stepped inside.

"Shit," Rufus echoed as they sighted her and raised their weapons.

Toriko violently changed direction, somehow running even faster. Her hair whipped Rufus in the face, scoring his cheeks with thin lines of fiery pain as she looked for a way out. Her movements were erratic.

"Calm down," Rufus breathed in her ear. "We'll be fine. Rush the door team."

"I don't have enough to cast another Wall on you," she said, dodging a couple of very close shots. "You'll get shot. We both will."

"I trust you."

She made a noise that was half despair and half disbelief, but charged at the door. Rufus held on tight. He couldn't do anything else.

_"That door is literally the only way out."_

Rufus heard Toriko exhale hard as she ran them to the door. His blood chilled with horror as he saw the hallway team aim at them.

But then almost as one, the muzzles of the guns swung to the right. Two of them fired. Rufus stared. Why had they done that? It was like they'd anticipated her movement, but very, very badly.

Suddenly one of the gunmen in the doorway screamed and collapsed into a twitching, lightning-covered pile. At the same time, a Barrier flared to golden reality over Toriko and Rufus. Furious barking added to the gunfire cacophany as Dark Nation exploded out of the doorway in a whirlwind of indigo fur and flashing teeth, ablaze with electricity.

"Good boy," called Rufus. "Good boy, Nation."

Another gunner went flying and Rufus saw that his eyes were half-rolled back, already unconscious. Reno and Rude stepped in, their fists blazing with materia. Rufus spotted claw marks on Rude's shoulders; Nation had apparently hitched a ride somehow. As fire and lightning magic turned the control room into a scene from hell, Tseng and Miranda, a blonde female Turk, gestured madly for Toriko to come to them in the hallway. Rufus heard Toriko's breathing turn shaky with relief as she ran to them.

"He can't walk," she said to Tseng as she ran into the hall. They retreated a few steps back, where it was relatively dark, but she saw Tseng's eyes widen with fear.

"I'm not paralyzed, but something's broken," said Rufus. "My leg."

Miranda's eyes temporarily glowed as she Sensed his condition. "Three fractures. No internal bleeding," she said. "He'll hold until we get to a hospital." She looked at Toriko. "Drained, but physically alright."

"The area from here until the safehouse is clear," said Tseng to Toriko. He seemed apologetic as he said, "Miss Shin-Ra, can you carry him there?"

"As long as you got the gunmen and the snipers up top."

Tseng nodded. It was then that Rufus noticed there were dark stains on his arms and knees, copper-scented ones that were nearly invisible against his suit. Miranda had a thin line of wiped-away blood near her hairline and under her nose. Reno and Rude seemed fit enough, but they were moving very stiffly.

"We're Turks," said Tseng, giving her a push. "Go. Run like hell."

Toriko and ran. Rufus looked over his shoulder just in time to see Tseng looking back at him, his brow creased with a concern that he imagined to be fatherly. Rufus didn't have time to smile even faintly before he lost sight of the man.

Toriko ran out the front door, breezing past scenes of carnage that made Rufus wince. Speeding down the launch tower stairs, she ran even faster once she hit the grass, each stride so swift and long that it almost felt comfortable. Ahead of them, Dark Nation loped with uninjured grace, glancing back at them every few steps to make sure they were close.

"I'm sorry," Toriko said to Rufus. "I know it hurts when we run."

"I'll live," he said. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she said, but he felt her shudder.

They ran into an army squad on the search not long after that. Toriko handed Rufus off to competent, prepared medics who set him on a stretcher and instantly covered him in a thick application of Restore spells that almost hurt for her to look at. They worked on him and retreated, and since Toriko seemed fine, she walked alongside them. Rufus shut his eyes and let the medics work, though feeling his bones rearrange into their proper place felt like ice worms were slithering underneath his skin. Fortunately, the very nature of healing magic meant that even this uncomfortable sensation was painless.

The walk to the rocket workshop was short and blessedly calm. Now that his pain and injuries were being addressed, Rufus wondered what to do next. And what to do about Toriko.

_"She seems fine now, but this on top of the breakdown she had yesterday... She's not right. Not in the least. I need to get her out of Midgar for a while longer, but where could we go? Besides, it's not like she'll stop missing her father if we change locations. Or needing him. Goddamnit, what business did he have teaching her to be like this?"_

Because there was absolutely no doubt in Rufus's mind that Sephiroth was to blame for Toriko's training. No normal child took up a sword and grievously wounded people. Rufus gritted his teeth and in the privacy of his own mind, thought very unkind thoughts about the dead.

There was a commotion as soon as they came into the rocket workshop. "Toriko!" Reeve gasped in horror. Rufus was pointed the wrong way to see everyone's reactions, but he could imagine them all except the Old Man's. Which was annoying, because that was the only one he needed to see.

"Not mine," Toriko mumbled. She sounded exhausted and Rufus didn't blame her. The adrenaline was wearing off and she was no doubt feeling the pain of being cast at and beaten. Even with a Wall, getting slammed with two Fira (or maybe Firaga) spells was no joke, and Shears had looked like a heavy hitter too.

"What happened?" Reeve demanded, running to Toriko. He grabbed her face, staring into her eyes, and patted her head. It took Rufus a moment to realize he was fussing over her for injury and he nearly laughed. It didn't escape him that his own father was nowhere to be seen.

"I... I was stupid," Toriko said, a shudder going over her. "When you all disappeared, I got worried and I went up, and they caught me and Rufus."

Rufus lifted his head from the stretcher. Their eyes met briefly as he propped himself up on his elbows, much to the consternation of the medics.

_"Fine. If she wants to lie, she has her reasons."_

"They wanted the safehouse location," said Rufus, turning around to look at his father. The Old Man looked back at him with narrowed eyes, which Rufus read as both suspicion and deep displeasure. "Fortunately, the Turks arrived."

"Fat lot of good they did," grumbled Heidegger. "Or you two wouldn't have gotten snatched in the first place."

"Is that Rufus's blood?" Scarlet asked, staring at the dark spatters all over Toriko's clothes. "Or yours?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Um... Turks. Doing their job. I want to sit down."

Reeve grabbed a nearby chair and all but forced her into it. Toriko put her head on her knees, effectively refusing to communicate. Rufus nearly reached out to her, but Reeve was already there, his hand on her back in wordless comfort. He was older and a family man; no one would look at him twice or think him weak for showing concern. Rufus turned his attention to the other Executives.

"What a disaster," Palmer fretted. "An utter disaster! My beautiful rocket...!"

"Have it back online as soon as possible," said President Shin-Ra. To Heidegger, he said, "Find out how AVALANCHE broke our security and made this entire mess."

"I'd like to revisit the Adamantine Project again," said Scarlet, eyeing Rufus and Toriko. "If we're likely to deal with this sort of problem in the future, lightweight full-body armor could save our lives."

"We'll talk when we're back in Midgar," said President Shin-Ra.

They packed up and shipped out later that day. There was no question that the rocket would launch later, but honestly Rufus didn't care if it took off at this point. AVALANCHE's unexpected interference had put another black smear on the Company's image and specifically, the Old Man's leadership. Having his best fighter die, his son come back injured, and the darling Princess appear shellshocked and covered in blood, well... The Company's media outlets could say whatever they wanted, but the unaffiliated states would be running with this hard. It was time to start planting whispers in certain peoples' ears.

_"Five years,"_ Rufus decided. _"I'm going to be the President in five years."_

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: I've decided that the military uses Fire, Fire2, Fire3 as per the original game translation, but colloquial usage has the spells as Fire, Fira, Firaga.

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	10. With respect

My Vietnam

5 August 2014

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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

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_With respect_

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To Toriko, the most annoying thing after the Rocket Incident was Reeve insisting that she stay with his family for a few days. Toriko didn't have anything against the Tuestis, but they were so damn _weird_ around her. Too bright, too solicitous, too cheerful. Too confused about how to treat her when she came back bloodied and battered. She was fine, but they never believed her no matter how often she told them. She was tempted to take Reeve up on his offer to shut him and his family up—

_"Oh, don't be so uncharitable, Toriko. They're only worried about you. You know how worried they are."_

Rufus was in the hospital. No two ways about it, he needed quiet lying-down time to fully heal from the beating he'd taken. Materia did a lot, but it worked better if a person was healthy and Rufus's vitality was less-than-optimal for his age range. Toriko was surprised until she realized that he only exercised for vanity and had very little in the way of real endurance. Reeve tried to make Toriko go to the hospital too—"In case you need to talk to somebody," he kept saying—but Toriko politely refused every attempt. One, she wasn't injured. Two, if she _did_ feel like talking, there were few people who would actually be able to give her solid advice.

So to get Reeve off her back, she went and visited the men of the Seventh at the Garrison. Of course, 'talking things out' was not the only reason she had for going.

After the bombing three years ago, visitors were detained in a blast-proof waiting room while the SOLDIERS or servicepeople they were waiting for were summoned. Toriko had bypassed this annoying procedure until Sephiroth's disappearance, but about half the time the grunt in charge of admission waved her through anyway, most of them being familiar with her weekly sparring schedule. This time, however, a pockmarked individual who couldn't be more than two years her senior cited that "procedure had to be followed" and refused to allow her to pass. Toriko considered pulling the "do you know who I am" card, but there wasn't any real point; he was technically correct.

Nevertheless, Toriko smiled when Captain Dulles showed up, looked at her, then looked at the rookie with blue lights strobing from his eyes.

"You're new," he said in a low voice that nevertheless made the private go pale. "So I'll let this slide. But the Little Miss does not wait. Ever. You got that?"

"B-b-but—"

Ahh. This sort of simpleminded protectiveness was something Toriko could stand and appreciate. Dulles took her back to his office, which was in the barracks set aside specially for SOLDIERS.

"I read a bit about what happened in the papers," he said to her. "They said you got kidnapped, but..."

Toriko shook her head. The large part of her emotional processing had already happened. She was alive, Rufus was alive, and most importantly, no one had seen her destroy the opposition beyond all expectation. But Captain Dulles could know the truth because he would never believe that she wouldn't fight, not after being her sparring partner off and on for a year. In fact, his double-sword technique had helped hone her own.

"Glad you're alright," he said, patting her on the shoulder. "What'd you want to talk about?"

Toriko _meant_ to ask about Zack, but instead she said, "Is it... Alright, that I don't feel bothered?"

Dulles's face tightened. It hit Toriko then that being a SOLDIER had probably frustrated some deep-seated paternal instinct that the man had, because he looked at her with a mix of sadness and anger that was very much like the expression Reeve and even Rufus had after the incident.

It pissed her off.

"Everyone gets through it differently," he said, at least keeping his voice professional. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

So Toriko told him. There was no point in lying, but Toriko was still surprised to see how stunned Dulles was when she told him about her materia usage. His thoughts were turbulent with horror and a growing sense of discomfort...

...which somehow made her feel better, though she wasn't sure why.

"Am I weird for not being bothered?" She asked, partially because she knew it would make him uncomfortable.

"Well... I gotta say that you're handling it better than a lot of people in your shoes," said Dulles. "Most girls wouldn't be so calm."

Aaaand there it was. Toriko suppressed the surge of irritation with some effort and changed subjects, though not as far as Dulles was concerned.

"Well, I don't think Zack would like it if I lost my cool. Speaking of which... Where is he?"

"...no one told you?"

"Told me what?"

Dulles's eyes darkened. "I'm really sorry," he said. "But he was on the last mission with your father."

_"Good, so he knows that much, at least,"_ thought Toriko. Aloud she went, "Oh," in a small voice.

"What sort of mission was it?" She asked after a few beats of silence had passed. "No one...tells me anything."

"I wish I knew," said Dulles sincerely. "All I know is that it was supposed to be a walk in a park, and it went wrong. Really wrong."

Toriko bowed her head. Mentally she scanned Dulles's thoughts for his last conversation with Zack, which wasn't hard since it was floating topmost on his mind.

_"Hey Cappy, I'm going on a mission with the General. Got any tips?"_

_ "For what?"_

_ "Well, you know... Dealing with him. I don't know him as well as the rest of you guys... Is there anything I should do, or not do...?"_

_ "Don't be an idiot."_

_ "Ha, ha."_

_ "He hates waiting, so always be ready to go. Make sure you've got the right gear. Where are you going?"_

_ "Some little mountain town called Nibelheim."_

Toriko nearly smiled. A name. **She had a name.**

"Did anyone tell his girlfriend?" Toriko asked, lifting her head.

Dulles shook his head. "I don't think so," he said. "Long brown hair, green eyes, right?" When Toriko nodded, he said, "She hasn't been around. But I'm not surprised, she didn't come up to the Plate much. She's a B, only gets up here with a work permit."

"Oh," said Toriko again, but this time she was just surprised. B, short for below-the-plate, more colloquially known as "slumrat"; this was the population that lived underneath the glittering Plate System that Midgar was known the world over for. All Toriko knew of it was that it was a dirty shantytown not unlike the back alleys she'd grown up in. Up until now she'd forgot it even existed.

_"Shears had a point, I guess. But I have other things on my mind. There will always be poor people, but only one Father."_

"Well, someone should tell her," said Toriko. "What's her name?"

Dulles shrugged. "Zack never told us."

"Why?"

"Said she asked him not to. She's cagey. Lotsa B's are like that, not that I blame them. It's never like the Company gave them a good deal. Or even a fair one."

They talked a bit before Toriko bade him farewell and went back home. At the moment, Reeve was permitting her to live by herself, but she silently groaned at the inevitable barrage of "invitations" that he'd soon extend. It wasn't good for her to be alone, he'd insist, she'd feel better around other people...

_"How are you doing? How are you feeling? You wanna talk about it? UGGGH."_

There was nothing to talk about. Yes, she still smelled blood occasionally. Yes, sometimes she had nightmares. But Sephiroth had lived through similar experiences and risen above without anyone's help, so she could too. Toriko was not going to disappoint him.

When Toriko got back to the apartment, she heard noises from within. She slapped her forehead.

_"I gave Reeve that keycard to shut him up, I didn't expect he'd actually use it! This is the last straw, invading my privacy like I'm some sort of mentally unstable crying-for-help cutcase—that's it, I'm not going to be polite. I'm going to tell him to get out, and—_

_ "No, no, no. He might insist. And if I _re_sist, then he'll just start looking at me more closely. I need to maintain as much freedom as possible._

_ "Ughhh, maybe I should just stay over at his house for a week. I'll just spend most of my time with Meryl and Rose."_

Battle plan formed, Toriko reached for the door. She heard a shuffle on the other side and something about it made her hesitate.

_"That's not the sound of a hard sole on a marble floor... It sounds too soft. Muffled. Like my shoes."_

It took Toriko only a moment to decide her next course of action. Twice now she'd crossed paths with AVALANCHE and made them look fools, and it wasn't like her address was private. Toriko took the stairs up to the penthouse garden, which was fortunately deserted. Every resident had a locker up here, usually filled with things like tablecloths and soda pop for parties. Sephiroth's locker had sparring weapons and a length of rope with a grapple that could be hooked around the wrought-iron rail and used to lower oneself to the ground. Toriko secured the grapple and drew a knife from her skirt. Her blood was pounding in her ears, her breath ratcheting up despite her best intentions.

_"There won't be anyone to see me. I don't have to worry about pretending to be weak later."_

The best defense, Sephiroth had taught her, was an overwhelming, devastating, crushing offense. And after being shot at and set on fire multiple times, Toriko could see the wisdom in his words.

Her balcony wasn't far below, and in truth, she could have dropped from the garden and onto the rail. But it would have been loud, and Toriko wanted every chance to study the situation. No more running wide-eyed into dangerous situations.

_"Especially because it's my own life on the line now..."_

Toriko sent her thought ahead, guessing roughly where the apartment was. There was only one person inside and to her surprise, it was a familiar mind. Feeling foolish, she went back downstairs and opened the door with her own keycard. No one was inside that she could see, but there was a box in the middle of the living room floor. The glare off the floor was annoying, but when Toriko narrowed her eyes, she saw a wooden box inlaid with brass designs on the corners and hinges. She had two others, both from the same sender.

"Careless," said a dry voice she hadn't heard in two years.

Toriko looked up at the spiral staircase. Her sensei walked down, looking essentially the same as she had the last time Toriko had seen her. She was still short, still fit, and wore her hair in a long braid that went down past her hips, tied with a red ribbon. Though dressed in loose Continental clothes, she still moved like a battle-ready kunoichi. Toriko noted the imprint of shuriken, knives, and a garroting wire, and knowing Nanashi-sensei, she had three or four pieces of materia that were just weak enough to escape the Shin-Ra's confiscation guidelines.

"What if that box had been a trap?" Nanashi asked.

Later Toriko would not know if she'd been irritated or just thoughtless when she threw her skirt knife at Nanashi's head. Even at top speed, Nanashi stepped aside and coolly observed as the eighteen-inch-dagger thudded into the wall. Neither of them said anything about the fact that Toriko had thrown to kill.

"I saw your picture in the paper," said Nanashi. Toriko stiffened, bracing herself for the usual questions about her mental state, but all Nanashi said was, "Good to know keeping up on your training."

"Well, it would be a shame to waste all our time together," said Toriko.

"Hn." Nanashi wrenched the knife out of the wall, dislodging chunks of plaster. "How many?"

"How many?"

"Enemies. Kills."

Toriko exhaled. "It... Wasn't a good fight."

"I'm not a samurai, I don't care about 'a good fight'," said Nanashi, coming down the stairs. "You lived. And I want to hear how."

So Toriko told her. Nanashi was impassive, but Toriko found that her teacher's thoughts were both impressed and disappointed. It took a certain pragmatic ruthlessness to turn people against their comrades the way Toriko had, but her inability to finish the enemy was going to get her killed someday. Nanashi told her as much out loud, which made Toriko actually, strangely feel a bit better.

"I did cut someone's fingers off," Toriko said. "So he couldn't shoot at me."

"He still had his other hand, didn't he? Finish it properly next time."

"Yes, Sensei," said Toriko, feeling strangely pleased. It took her a moment to realize that Nanashi was telling her exactly what Sephiroth would have.

"A performance review is not the main reason I'm here," said Nanashi. Seating herself at the kitchen counter, she said, "I have gifts from your aunt and a message."

"I thought as much," said Toriko. "What's the message, please?"

"She wants to see you," said Nanashi. "She's not doing well."

"She's never doing well."

"She's on her deathbed," said Nanashi bluntly. Toriko's blood chilled, her breath freezing in her chest. "She can't even walk right now."

For no good reason Toriko thought of her mother's dragon-headed cane. It was a beautiful piece, carved out of dark rosewood and housing a slim saber that was as flexible as a whip. Seishi didn't know how to fight, but she was more than willing to draw and kill, or at least maim. Unconsciously Toriko smiled.

"We leave tomorrow morning."

Toriko started. "What! Sensei—"

"Oh?" Nanashi gave her a hard look. "You aren't thinking of _not _going, are you?"

"Of course not! I will go!" The idea of not seeing Seishi again hit her like a punch in the heart. "It's just sudden, that's all. I have to figure out a plausible reason to go... And without Turks following me. They've left me mostly alone since Father disappeared, but after what happened on the last trip out of Midgar, the President will want to keep an eye on me."

_"Reeve, too. God only knows what he'll think of me taking a trip after this!"_

"That's assuming you come back here."

Toriko looked at Nanashi, her eyes slowly narrowing.

"Your father is dead," said Nanashi, her voice direct and without any particular emotion. "There is nothing for you here. Meanwhile, your aunt needs you and there are things that only you can do in Wutai."

"Like what?"

"Run the business."

Toriko shook her head. "I have no skill in that arena."

"You'll learn."

"It wouldn't do anyone any good," said Toriko. "I'll go back to Wutai for Auntie, but I must return here."

"Why?"

Toriko chewed her lip. She'd thought of contacting her mother and Nanashi briefly after Sephiroth had disappeared, but the idea of them helping her was so ludicrous that she'd never once mentally rehearsed what she'd say to them if the opportunity arose.

_"Do I tell them he's alive, or...?"_

"I... I just have to," she said lamely.

Nanashi studied her until Toriko squirmed, and even her thoughts revealed nothing more than _"I know my student is hiding something from me, but why?"_ Just when Toriko was about to suggest making tea, anything to break the silence, Nanashi said, "Open the box. There are things you'll need for our trip."

Grateful for something to do, Toriko complied. This brass-inlaid box seemed to be a companion to the others she'd received; in fact, they would nest inside each other perfectly. To date, Toriko had received a beautiful child's furisode she'd never had the opportunity to wear, a set of poisoned kanzashi, an iron-ribbed fan, a koto she still played every now and then, and two sakabatou in sheaths covered with red chirimen silk instead of lacquer. Toriko had no idea what would be in the box, aside from the fact it would be very traditional, but the sight of what lay inside the lid stopped her dead.

"Oh," was all she said. 'Oh' was wildly insufficient.

"That was the last kimono your mo—aunt ever wore as a geisha," said Nanashi as Toriko stared at the lavishly dyed silk. "And it was her favorite. You're going to bring it back and wear it for her."

Toriko glanced over her shoulder. "Then why did you bring it all the way—"

"Da Chao only knows," said Nanashi. "But she was very insistent on you having it in case something happened in the meantime."

Toriko's face tightened. She looked back at the kimono and sighed deeply, touching the soft, beautifully maintained silk. Dyed in a technique that had been lost since the War, maple leaves of scarlet and orange spilled from a tree whose branches had been embroidered in real gold thread, with occasional gold accents glittering like dewdrops from leaves on the sleeves. The bottom of the kimono was dyed blue-on-blue, with scarlet leaves dropping into the still surface of a pond and creating ripples that almost seemed to move. Every color seemed to burn against a rich black that rivaled the night sky.

"That's not the only thing in the box," said Nanashi.

"It's the only thing that matters," said Toriko softly.

"That's the past. Your aunt has gifts for your present and future also."

Toriko looked at her strangely for a moment before carefully taking the kimono out and setting it aside—on the couch, not the floor. She took out the beautiful maru obi, which was an almost solid gold and tastefully embroidered with red and white maple leaves. Toriko started the moment she saw Seishi's real present.

"Oh," she said again, but this was an entirely different 'oh'. This was not a sound suffused with aching wonder. It was definitely a 'this is nice, but I really, really do not want this' sort of gift.

"You've outgrown your sakabatou by now," said Nanashi. "It's time you had real blades."

"I... I have real blades," said Toriko. "But these... They're too much for me. I couldn't use something so fine."

"Weapons are meant to be used, not admired," said Nanashi. "Test their weight."

Slowly Toriko lifted the pair of katana out of the box. These katana were in lacquered sheaths, as lustrously dark and smooth as oil, mother-of-pearl designs wisping like smoke over the polished wood. Toriko looked at the hilts, which were traditional ray skin wrapped with silk, and then at the tsuka, which were a fair bit more elaborate than her sakabatou. These were fancy openworked pieces, like nobility had. Toriko knew from a very long time ago that traditionally, only ancestral swords had such...elaborate...tsuka...

She looked more closely at the hilts. Two different snarling foulanders on each. They looked familiar...

_"I know I've seen this before. When? It was when I was a small child... This is an ancestral crest, or a representation of one—"_

The faces on the foulanders were very ugly. Toriko remembered seeing carved statues of them in temples, usually with deities who represented Hell and the Underworld. Seishi had spent a lot of time praying to those gods, begging these vengeful divinities to punish the people who'd brought her so low. Sephiroth figured large in these prayers, but equally large had been...

…

…

Toriko gasped aloud. She spun around, staring at Nanashi, who was now smirking. "These are the ancestral swords of the Shusaku family!"

"Yes they are."

"How did Mo—Auntie get these?!"

"Your aunt made the late Lord Shusaku give them to her," said Nanashi, now grinning openly. "On pain of revealing their relationship to the public. He blustered, but seeing as he had no children to pass the swords onto..."

_"...I am technically the only child of the main Shusaku line, as the Lord never formally divorced Mother when he threw her out of the house. It would show up on the register. I wonder what he told everyone..."_

Toriko knew very well how the theft of the noble life had rankled Seishi for years. Lord Shusaku was fabulously wealthy and very influential, and if Seishi and Toriko had taken their rightful places in his family, there was a good chance that Toriko would have been one of Princess Yuffie's formal playmates. And from there, the possibilities would have been dazzling.

But of course that hadn't happened. Toriko hadn't thought about her mother's ex-husband in years, but here was proof that Seishi had finally triumphed over one of the worst experiences in her life. She could just imagine her mother cackling her crowlike laugh over these blades and that made Toriko smile. She still wasn't sure about using these—for one thing, they were too long to hide under a skirt—but she _did_ like the idea of having them.

"Won't anyone be looking for these?" Toriko asked, turning the blades over with new interest.

"Unlikely," said Nanashi. "The new Lord Shusaku is one of those... 'New' Wutaiese. He turned the ancestral estate into a _hotel,"_ she said, her voice dripping with contempt.

"Mother owns a very 'new' ochaya," said Toriko mildly.

"There's a difference between building your own business and putting your ancestors on display."

Toriko looked back at the swords. She knew just enough about metallurgy to know that these were fine weapons, made with steel that was probably better than Sephiroth's Masamune. Not that that meant she'd be able to cause more destruction any time soon, but it was nice to have something...nice. Really nice. Toriko tested her thumb on the blade and was pleased at the near-painless sharpness of the cut. Absently she was aware of her pulse speeding up.

"Let me make a few calls," said Toriko, setting the swords down reluctantly. "And pack."

'Calls' was deceptive. Toriko went to visit Rufus in the hospital. He looked incredibly bored when Toriko arrived, but he did make a nice picture, bandaged with healing salves and dressed all in white. Toriko decided she liked him slightly banged up; it made him look humble.

_"Though it's humility I like on him, not the harm."_

"You can speak freely," he said, gesturing. "We're not bugged."

"That's nice," she said, intending to do no such thing. "Rufus, I'm going to take a trip."

"A trip? Where?"

"Cosmo Canyon," she lied, figuring it would be easy to go just a bit further after she crossed the ocean. "I want to scope out their college program. And they have wonderful hot springs. I'd like to relax in them after all..this."

"I don't disagree," said Rufus. "I'd go with you, but the doctors don't want let me out out just yet."

"Why? I thought you had a clean bill of health after the materia applications."

He shrugged, which was far too nonchalant. Something was up. Toriko considered asking, but she had other fish to fry and Rufus was a grown man. He'd take care of himself.

"In any case, please tell the Turks not to follow me," she said. "It's an unaffiliated territory and I want minimum Company involvement. You know that things can be...tense."

"I don't want you going to Cosmo Canyon alone," said Rufus. "It's far away, AVALANCHE-Beta is probably there, and without Turks, you're a sitting duck."

"I took care of myself pretty well."

"You panicked," said Rufus, looking at her with a certain piercing gaze that only blue eyes could manage. Toriko bristled, but inwardly winced as she remembered her erratic dashing inside the rocket. "If you want to go to Cosmo Canyon, I'm sending Turks with you."

"I really don't want to be followed right now," said Toriko. "I need some time alone."

"Well, you're fourteen and you're not going to get it."

This was an unexpected roadblock. Toriko contemplated _making_ Rufus do what she wanted, but he was too smart to realize he'd made a totally illogical decision later. Time for something else.

"What if I was staying with family, then?"

"Family?"

"My family in Wutai."

Rufus looked at her consideringly. Toriko suppressed an annoyed sigh. She really hadn't wanted to give up that information, but Rufus had always proved to be more sensible than she thought when given the truth.

_"If I'm not careful, I'll tell him everything."_

"My aunt is sick," she said. "I want to see her. After Father, I just..." She swallowed. "I need to spend time with her. I asked you about Cosmo Canyon because I thought you'd be more okay with that, but..."

"These are the relatives who threw you out?"

"No, this aunt was the nice one. She always looked out for me."

"Hmm."

"Rufus... Please."

He folded his arms. "I really don't like you going alone. You're taking a Turk."

"Can I at least choose which Turk?"

"If they're free," he said. "Who were you thinking?"

"Rude," said Toriko. As Rufus blinked, she said, "He's not heading up any active investigations, is he?"

"He isn't now," said Rufus in a certain tone, which made Toriko smile inside. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

"Is your aunt that bad off?"

She nodded. Rufus nodded back slowly, digesting this information, before looking at her with a strange, intense look in his eyes.

"You are going to take care of yourself, aren't you?" He asked in a voice that was half concern and half command.

Coming from a man on bedrest in the hospital, Toriko nearly laughed. But his concern was real, and he was the only one (aside from Sensei) who didn't doubt her or pity her. Toriko patted his hand.

"That's why I'm going," she said.

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: Aaand into the next arc. Which is going to be...awkward.

I made a Pinterest board about fashion in the PYLOVerse. The link is on my profile and also here at www. pinterest whathostudio / pylo-verse-clothing-and-miscellany/

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	11. Mama was a lunatic, yes

My Vietnam

7 August 2014

/\/\/\/\/\

This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

/\/\/\/\/\

_Mama was a lunatic, yes_

/\/\/\/\/\

Seishi still lived in the small house across the Blue Lotus's "lake". This late in the spring, the sweet tea olive trees that shaded the entire structure were in full bloom, nearly hiding the house from sight. Apricot-scented breezes covered the smell of decay for most people, but reminders of her impending death were everywhere for Seishi; the house was dark because too much light hurt her eyes, there was a basket in every room for soiled bandages, and there was Continental furniture in certain places because being higher off the ground made it easier for Yoko and Tsukiko to pick her up and carry her. Normally Seishi didn't care about any of this, but the day Toriko was due to arrive, she replaced the Continental furniture with Wutaiese, hid all the bandage baskets, and made the lights as bright as she could stand without her one eye watering. When she was done, Seishi sat on the veranda of her small house, swatched in a black-and-purple susohiki whose embroidered train covered her useless, dangling legs.

_"What do I say? What do I do?"_

Seishi was still surprised that Toriko had consented to come, but she'd always been such a dutiful child. Seishi hoped the Continents hadn't spoiled that aspect of her.

_"Well, even if they did, she's still my daughter."_

There was a deep, nameless hunger clawing at her chest these days, an appetite for Toriko so great that it frightened her. Seishi wanted to see her daughter. She had no idea why, nor any idea of what she would do once Toriko was actually there. Half-formed notions came and went, no more permanent than her recollection of events from day to day. Seishi knew she was losing her mind, but she wasn't terribly frightened by it. There was much she wanted to forget, and forgetting how to dress herself was a small price to pay for the loss of nightmares featuring glowing-eyed demons doing unspeakable things.

Besides, she had handmaidens to help her, at least for now.

Yoko and Tsukiko were displeased by Toriko's incumbent arrival. They never said as much to her, but Seishi could see their eyes go tight whenever Toriko's name came up. Silly ducks. They loved her more than their dead mothers, but to Seishi they had only ever been servants. They were not replacements for Toriko, despite being her same age and looking much like her when she'd first picked them off the street. Yoko was plumper than Toriko now, in a way that people would find appealing-bordering-on-overripe later in life. Tsukiko was always going to be very short, but her proportions were well enough that she'd look more like a woman than a small child.

_"I wonder what my daughter will look like many years from now..."_

Nanashi and Toriko arrived in the evening, shadowed by a tall man wearing sunglasses. Seishi remembered Rude, though he wore a dark gray hoodie and dark pants; apparently he was undercover, to an extent. He stayed back a respectful distance from Nanashi and Toriko as they rounded the lake to approach. Seishi looked past Nanashi, her one good eye only for her daughter. What she saw made her breath catch in her throat.

Toriko was of average height now, but the length of her stride hinted at an unfeminine tallness later; she would be taller than Seishi, nearly of a height to look her late father in the eye. She walked like Nanashi, all muscle and no grace except when she thought about it. Even far away, her gray-green eyes glowed like the Demon's, sending an unconscious chill of fear though Seishi's chest that made her breath come short. She controlled it by breathing deep, scooping the fear from the pit of her stomach and exhaling it out through her nose.

_"My daughter. Mine. Mine."_

Toriko was dressed like a Continental in dark, slim-fitting pants with pockets on the sides of the legs and a short, structured coat that had a military feel. The hilts of the Shusaku swords bobbed at her hips, which made Seishi smile a bit. She'd estimated correctly; Toriko was finally tall enough to use the blades, though she wouldn't remain this height for long.

The closer Toriko came, the more awkward Seishi felt. When her daughter came to stand before her, her thoughts seemed to stall.

_"You've gotten so tall without me."_

"I've been eating well," said Toriko.

Seishi blinked, unaware she'd spoken aloud. To cover her lapse, Seishi nodded at Nanashi, who bowed and disappeared into the shadows. Rude hung around like a bad odor until Toriko dismissed him with a similar head nod, though he only moved a few steps back.

_"Now where are my handmaidens... Hiding somewhere near, no doubt. I'm sure they want to get a good look at her."_

"Yoko, Tsukiko," Seishi called softly. Two soft footfalls came behind her almost instantly, resolving into soft shuffles of silk. They had been very near indeed.

"Yes, milady?" They chorused.

"See to Nanashi and our...male guest, over there."

"Yes, milady."

They left, but Seishi heard the reluctance in their footsteps. Tsukiko walked past Seishi to get to Rude, which meant she had to pass by Toriko. Seishi did not miss the downward flick of her daughter's glowing eyes as Tsukiko probably shot her a jealous glance.

"What a bother," said Toriko, speaking in Junonese.

"She feels threatened by you," said Seishi back in the same language.

Toriko cocked her head, regarding her mother with considering eyes. "I don't see why," said Toriko in del Solian. "She's not anything close to competition for me."

Seishi nearly laughed. They had done this often when Toriko was a child, cycling through the languages Seishi knew and had taught to her. It was a handy way to communicate in a world that was less than friendly. Seishi hadn't thought that Toriko would remain fluent, but then again she had gone to a very prestigious school.

"Well, don't disabuse them of that notion," said Seishi in Modeian. "If they fall into despair, they'll be less useful to me."

"You could dismiss them," said Toriko in the same language. Abruptly switching to Wutaiese, she said, "I intend to stay with you until..."

Seishi watched her daughter's face closely. There was the lowering of the gaze she remembered well. But that head tilt to avoid the unpleasant, that was distinctly her father's motion.

"Come here," said Seishi. "You're standing in the dark."

Toriko walked to her and sat by her on the veranda. Seishi lifted her hands to her daughter's cheeks and studied her face.

"Your eyes have become very green," said Seishi, fascinated and repelled by the unnatural glow. Not reflective like a cat's eyes, they were definitely more like a SOLDIER's. Seishi looked hard into her daughter's gaze and saw a subtle thinning at the bottom of her pupil. There was an oil lamp nearby. Seishi picked it up and held it up by Toriko's face. Toriko remained still, though her eyes flicked to the side with the flame. Seishi saw her pupils narrow vertically. Just like her father's had. She exhaled and set the lantern down.

It wasn't enough just to see. Seishi gently brushed and patted the curves of Toriko's face, feeling the growing definition of her jaw and the rising prominence of her cheekbones. When she had a better idea of how Toriko would look after she was gone, Seishi picked up her daughter's left hand.

"Why do you wear these?" She asked, plucking at the leather half-glove over Toriko's palm.

"They give me better traction when I fight," said Toriko.

"Are you so threatened, that you're ready to fight all the time?"

"I was taught to be prepared."

Seishi probed the muscles and bones of Toriko's hand. As a child she'd been soft, but now touching her was like touching a wolf, all muscle and deadly intent that waited quietly until the right moment. Seishi tugged on the glove but Toriko lifted her hand away.

"Let me comb your hair, Mother."

Seishi turned. Toriko reached into her pocket and pulled out one of the decorative combs that Seishi had sent her years ago, but the red-and-gold kushi looked pathetically small in her black-clad palm. Nevertheless Toriko ran the carved wooden teeth through Seishi's hair, which was still long enough to pool on the veranda behind her. If Toriko noticed it was more gray than black, she didn't say a word. Once she was finished combing, Toriko silently began to braid.

_"Such a light touch she has,"_ Seishi thought. _"No one's been able to braid my hair for years without pulling some of it out."_

"You must be hungry," said Seishi. "What do you want to eat?"

"I'm not hungry," said Toriko. "But I'll make us some tea and snacks if you like."

It was not right. But Seishi had no idea what more she wanted from their interaction, as Toriko finished the braid and got up. What else did mothers and daughters talk about? More importantly, what did _she_ want to talk about?

"Toriko..."

"Yes, Mother?"

"Are you happy?"

"..."

Seishi looked up. All she saw was her daughter's back, for a moment forbidding despite her age and frame.

"Generally yes," said Toriko. "Right now it's hard."

"You can stay here."

"There's nothing for me here, Mother."

"I've willed you the Blue Lotus," said Seishi. "You will be independently wealthy."

"And would I run the place?"

Seishi scoffed. "Don't be silly. You don't know anything about the business."

She saw the tension drain from Toriko's body. "Oh good," said the girl. "I was afraid I might have to argue with you about that. Sensei said something about me taking over."

"Only in name," said Seishi. "And you'd approve certain requests and things."

"How would we explain that? No one knows about our connection."

"That's your problem," said Seishi flippantly. "I'll be dead."

Toriko turned sharply, her face creased with dismay and suppressed anger. Seishi was stunned by the rawness of her expression. Even as a child, Toriko rarely showed how she was feeling.

"Surely you won't miss me that much," said Seishi quietly, lowering her eyes. "We separated so long ago. You're a completely different person now."

"Whose fault is that?" Toriko asked bitterly. As Seishi lifted her head in surprise, Toriko said, "As long as we're being honest."

"I did what was best," said Seishi, not sure where the change in tone had come from.

"You gave me away without ever asking me if I wanted to go," said Toriko, the light from her eyes starting to flicker. Seishi fought against remembered fear. "I never said anything to you because I knew you wouldn't listen."

Seishi opened her mouth and then closed it. Tersely she shook her head. "You are correct," she said stiffly. "I would not have." She looked at Toriko and asked, "Have you truly been keeping that to yourself all this time? The last time we met, you said you understood."

"But I never said I liked it," said Toriko.

"And you think I did?"

"No. Maybe."

The word stung like a hornet. "Maybe?"

Toriko gestured around her. "You've done very well without me, Mother. You're rich, cared for, you have influence—"

"I'm sorry, would you rather I have died?" Seishi asked, the numb shock turning slowly to anger.

"Of course not, Mother!"

"What are you trying to say, then?"

"I don't know!" Toriko burst out. Shaking her head, she said, "I can't stand hearing you talk about how you're going to die, when you were the one who made sure we had so little time together."

"You think I wanted us apart?" asked Seishi, fighting to maintain control. Anger was literally poison to her ruined body right now, but she couldn't stop herself. "Sending you away was the hardest thing I've ever done, especially considering who I was sending you to. I did ask you to come back, in case you've forgotten."

"I haven't forgotten," said Toriko, her eyes literally flashing. Like latent lightning they crackled as she said, "You wanted me back when it was easy for you."

"_Easy?"_ Seishi repeated. Staring at her only child like she'd lost her mind, she said deliberately, "Have you forgotten our lives back then, Toriko? Hungry—no, starving, all the time. Sores from wounds we couldn't pay to have treated. I lay down with whoever could pay so YOU could eat, and you think that was _easy_ for me?"

Seishi compulsively struck the veranda, ignoring the sick pop of her thin skin breaking. She saw Toriko gasp and the flash of horror on her face spurred Seishi on. "I am your mother, Toriko! And I made the choice that was the best for you, because you were too young to know what that was! So yes, I sent you away, and I'm not sorry! And when I could do better by you, I wanted you back, and I am not sorry about that either! If I'd let sentiment stop me, you almost certainly would have been forced into whoring, _and I would have killed you myself before I let that happen!"_

Too much. She was too angry. Seishi tried to hold her breath, but the coughing came, cracking through her body in rales that felt like her organs were tearing to bits. Blood spattered over the veranda.

"I'm sorry," Toriko gasped, dashing to her. "I'm sorry, Mother. Please stop. This isn't good for you."

_"You think I'm doing this on purpose too?" _Seishi thought furiously.

"No, no, of course you're not," said Toriko, awkwardly touching her shoulders and her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just... I don't... I won't say anymore. I'll behave, I promise, just don't die. Please."

And then Toriko started crying. But even as she cried, she held Seishi's shoulders, keeping her upright as the horrible coughing passed. Seishi forced herself to calm down. Toriko never cried aloud, never when anyone could see. Even as a very small child, she would turn her face to the corner and weep silently into the wall. When she had the strength, Seishi lifted her arms and hugged her daughter.

"I had no idea that it hurt you so much," said Seishi when she could breathe again. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's my fault," said Toriko, shuddering. "I said horrible things. It wasn't fair."

"Many things are unfair," said Seishi. "But it wasn't untrue. I'd rather hear this than a thousand lies about fine you are with everything."

"Most of the time I am fine," Toriko said, lifting her head. "But... I think something's wrong with me, Mother. I _feel_ so much intensely than I normally do."

"My darling, you're at that age," said Seishi, looking at her. "It's to be expected."

Toriko started laughing. Seishi stroked her hair with her non-injured hand, feeling something warm and maternal pushing out the dying anger. A bit of strength seemed to come back into her body.

"Let's go to sleep, Tori-chan," said Seishi. "We'll have lots of time to talk tomorrow."

Toriko sniffed and nodded. Without being asked, she picked up Seishi and carried her down the hall to her room. With the greatest of care, she helped Seishi out of her pointlessly heavy kimono and into her comfortable sleeping robe, changing her bandages along the way. Afterward they laid down on the futon and fell asleep, foreheads touching, as though the years had never come between them. It was the best Seishi had slept in a long time.

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: The trees around Seishi's house are sweet tea olives, also known as kwai fah. The smell of this flower is what gave Hong Kong its name, because the apricot-like scent fills the air and makes the land truly a fragrant harbor (heung gong). I adore this smell. Someday I'm going to cultivate a nice little indoor kwai fah tree like my grandfather and have my house smell wonderful all the time.

/\

I've been sitting on the original draft of this chapter for about three weeks and only tonight did I realize what was missing. There wasn't any conflict in the original draft, just this peculiar tepid uneasiness that didn't make sense for the amount of time left. So then I wrote another draft, which was so overdramatic that I lost sleep over it. Now we have only 200% more crying and screaming, with a side of deliberate obliviousness in the face of awful circumstances.

/\/\/\/\/\


	12. She liked to push my buttons

My Vietnam

9 August 2014

/\/\/\/\/\

This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

/\/\/\/\/\

_She liked to push my buttons_

/\/\/\/\/\

"Who are you?"

"I'm Toriko. Your daughter."

Today, the blank incomprehension lasted more than a minute. Toriko waited patiently as her mother puzzled through her words, and on a different level, Toriko picked up the scattering pieces of memory and put them where Seishi could find them. Seishi's thought processes themselves were still quick, but more information went missing every day.

"You look very much like I did at your age," said Seishi when she came out of it. "For a moment, I thought I was seeing myself."

"Well, then I know that I'll be beautiful when I grow up," said Toriko, keeping her voice placid.

Seishi smiled, but it was slightly vague. Toriko tamped down a surge of bitter disappointment as Seishi blinked and looked at her uncomprehendingly again. It was the third time today. And it had been getting more frequent over the past two weeks.

"Who are you?" Seishi asked. Toriko's eyes started stinging.

"I'm...the maid," said Toriko, looking away. "Please excuse me."

And before Seishi could say anything, Toriko bowed and left the room.

She walked outside, where the sun shone too bright and cheerful. Toriko walked briskly around the lake; in the afternoon, no one was around except for the entertainers and Blue Lotus staff, and everyone knew not to bother her when she was walking. Though she made exceptions for certain people.

"Yoko," she called as she approached the main structure. Now that Toriko was here, Seishi had banished the handmaidens to Nanashi's service, but they were always at Seishi's beck and call. And by extension, Toriko's. The handmaiden appeared by the time Toriko came up to the building proper.

"Yes, Young Mistress?" Yoko asked very formally.

"Mother is...far afield," said Toriko, and saw a mix of consternation and grim satisfaction flash across Yoko's face. "I need to go out. Take care of her while I'm gone."

"Of course, Young Mistress," said Yoko with a little bow. A very, very little bow. Toriko let it slide; in Yoko's place, she'd be taking the little victories where they came. "Take as long as you need. Tsukiko and I have things _very_ well in hand."

The little smirk in Yoko's voice made something flip in Toriko's head, but fortunately for Yoko, Toriko was so weary that she couldn't stir herself to smack her. On the other hand...

"Tell the dressers to prepare suitable attire for me," said Toriko, making Yoko blink. "I am your mistress's full-blooded daugher and I will go about in fashion that pleases her. In fact... I think I'll wear the furisode that Mother gave me."

Yoko bowed again, but this time dipped her head low enough to hide the anger in her eyes. Toriko looked down at her and didn't care. Both handmaidens had always been above themselves in regard to their relationship with Seishi, and no matter how much time they spent with her, they would never, ever be her actual daughters.

But the vindictiveness was short-lived and puffed away between one breath and the next. Toriko just didn't have the energy for it. More than anything right, she didn't want to be here. It was a terrible thing to think with Seishi being as ill as she was, but if Seishi looked at her one more time and didn't know who she was...

"_How badly does she want to forget me?"_

It was fortunate that it was springtime, because one of the biggest events of the Wutaiese entertainment district was the Festival of Fairies. The most talented geisha, the most promising maiko, and the most accomplished of musicians (along with acrobats, more general sorts of dancers, magicians, and other such folk) would dress up in their finest and perform on floating stages that sailed sedately down the river that kept Wutai nourished even in the depths of war. The Festival was a week away, but already the entertainment district was packed with visitors from near and far who came to gawk at the oncoming spectacle. Young noblewomen were out too, scarcely aware that they were also an attraction as they greedily observed the geisha for fashion tips of the upcoming year. Toriko planned to blend in as one of them, though she had no plans to actually socialize. If she could lose herself in the glittering panopoly for even an hour, it would be enough to keep her from losing her mind.

Seishi's gorgeous furisode of autumn leaves and ripples in a pond was too long and heavy to wear in this weather, so after consulting with Nanashi, Toriko selected a lighter weight furisode and a lighter fukuro obi instead of a fully-embroidered maru obi. The furisode was blue on blue and of such a shade that it reduced the greenness of Toriko's eyes; blue-gray eyeliner helped even more. More makeup softened the Continental angles of Toriko's jaw and cheekbones, and enough Wutaiese had thin noses that hers would escape scrutiny.

"You look like a proper ojousama," said Nanashi when the dressers were finished pulling, tucking, and wrapping everything into place. Toriko privately felt like a sausage stuffed into a too-tight casing. For all the fitted angles and tight seams of Continental clothing, she could at least move. When Toriko tried to take a step, the sheath-like construction of the long kimono more than halved her stride and she nearly fell over. As she caught herself, she nearly tripped again but this time due to surprise. A waft of familiar sweet rot had reached her nose.

"Have you forgotten how to take small steps, Tori-chan?"

Toriko straightened. To her mild surprise, Rude was carrying Seishi, balancing her on his hip so she could sit upright like a queen. Only a large and strong man could adopt such a posture and make it look easy.

"I got out of the habit," said Toriko, suddenly very self-conscious.

Seishi looked her up and down. Toriko was aware of the dressers silently awaiting her judgment, of Nanashi standing nearby with her arms folded, and of Yoko and Tsukiko flanking Seishi. They always moved so easily in their kimono that Toriko had never realized how constrictive the garments actually were. She probably looked like a cow stomping around in a silk dress.

"You look very lovely," said Seishi, her voice soft. As Toriko looked at her with mild distrust, Seishi said, "That is exactly what I would have chosen for you if we were going out together."

"Thank you, Mother," said Toriko with a little bow.

"I recommend the Flower Markets and the parks by the palace," said Seishi.

"What?"

"You're going out, aren't you?"

"Oh... Um..." Suddenly Toriko felt very foolish. The need to get away had diminished with the time taken to get dressed, and it looked like Seishi was lucid again. "I don't have to."

"You look wonderful," said Seishi, though it sounded more like a declaration than a compliment. "And you should be seen. Take some money with you."

"Mother, that's not—"

"I want you to go out, spend extravagantly, break hearts, and then come back and tell me all about it," said Seishi with a little smile. "Were I well, we'd be doing the exact same thing together. Indulge me, Tori-chan."

There wasn't much to do at that point and even less to say. Helplessly Toriko bowed and left the Blue Lotus with a purse of gil and no idea what to do with it.

As soon as she stepped out of the gate, Toriko drew notice from the tourists and denizens of the entertainment district. She was noticeably younger than most girls who were wearing floor-sweeping furisode and the complexity of her kanzashi was unrivaled, making her look fabulously rich. Several tourists attempted to take her picture, but a frosty glare was enough to stop them from raising their phones even fifteen feet away.

"_I'd prefer there to be as little evidence of my stay in Wutai as possible... Rude told me that Rufus has it about that I'm on an extended vacation for my health, but that's no reason to be flaunting my status."_

"_Besides, I'd prefer not to deal with any...stupidity...over my parentage."_

Toriko suddenly wondered what Sephiroth would have made of her wearing a kimono.

She walked along the river until she found a bench unoccupied by tourists or couples and took a moment to sit and think about what she wanted to do. All her memories of Wutai were varying degrees of unpleasant, colored heavily by the normalization of filth and ever-present hunger. Toriko remembered standing in the fish market and imagining the taste of mussels, which were common around Wutai but still too expensive for young Toriko and Seishi.

Ah, but the food of dreams, the stuff that was truly out of reach, was not something very expensive at all. It was simply that no vendor would ever sell it to them, for this food was only available during festival time and the vendors were always thronged with paying customers. They regularly ran out, but little Tori-chan had never stopped dreaming about what this food might taste like...

Her mind made up, Toriko went in search of Dragon's Beard candy.

It didn't take long to find a vendor. The theatrical creation process of Dragon's Beard candy always drew a crowd, and for a while Toriko was content to find a place in the crowd and watch the tanned old vendor expertly twist the thickened syrup, dip it in flour, and then magically pull, pull, pull until the golden rope of sugar had turned into a thick lock of sugar-coated hairs. She felt a strange sense of deja vu, almost seeing the image from two angles as the vendor expertly chopped and wrapped the candy around minced nuts and other sweetened things. Back in the old days, Seishi had needed to drag her away from the stalls, but now Toriko could watch for as long as she wanted. And even better...

"One, please," she said, pulling money from the heavy purse her mother had given her. The vendor barely spared her a glance, but bowed to her deeply as he gave her the longed-for candy, wrapped in waxed paper to keep the sugar mixture from ruining her clothes. The thrill of sweets and respect from a Wutaiese citizen, however cursory, was enough to make Toriko smile. She extricated herself from the crowd and found a fountain with a ledge wide enough to sit on. Unconscious of appearances, Toriko set the candy on her lap and took her time examining the candy before dissecting it with her fingertips. It was so fine that it almost melted in her hands and absently she licked her fingers as they became sticky.

"_Granulated sugar, maltose, peanuts, sugar cane, seasame... So simple, and yet so..."_

A shiver of delight went through her. Toriko picked up the light, soft candy and began to eat it as carefully as she could make herself. Not to spare her clothes (though she did consciously eat over the paper, so as not to drop sugar everywhere); every nibble of delicious, long-denied sweetness sent a ripple of pure happiness through her body. There was nothing in the Continents that tasted like this. She wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible.

Toriko was so involved in enjoying her candy that she didn't realize she was being watched. And not by Rude. He was no doubt nearby, but Toriko suddenly became aware that there was a girl perching at her side, her knees up to her chest and her face in her hands. Toriko looked at her slowly, a creeping sense of awkwardness marring the edge of her pleasure.

"Wow," said the girl. "You act like you've never eaten that before."

"I haven't," said Toriko, a little jolt going through her as she recognized the girl. She was longer of limb now, but there was no mistaking the fire in those bright gray eyes. "Princess Yuffie."

"Where've you been, a cave?" Yuffie asked. She obviously didn't recognize Toriko, but then Toriko was dressed very differently and had grown quite a bit. Toriko decided not to make an issue of it.

"No. Just very far away."

"But Dragon's Beard is everywhere," said Yuffie. "The next thing you're going to tell me, you haven't eaten gai daan jai."

Gai daan jai! At once, the puffy egg waffle popped to life in Toriko's mind and her jaws suddenly ached as her salivary glands went into overdrive.

"Oh my gawd," said Yuffie, her voice going flat with shock. "You poor thing."

The next thing Toriko knew, she was hiking up the edge of her kimono and running to keep up with Yuffie, who had seized her hand and was yanking her through the crowd, heading with unerring accuracy for the nearest gai daan jai vendor. The vendor recognized Yuffie and to Toriko's surprise, greeted her rather familiarly, treating her more like a neighborhood brat than the daughter of the Lord of Wutai. They got two enormous unbroken sheets of gai daan jai, each perfectly made with no crushed or unevenly cooked bubbles, and though Toriko intended to savor hers, Yuffie wolfing her snack down made her speed up—like hell she was going to give the Princess an opportunity to steal her food, though Yuffie had paid for them both. Apparently she was running around with money too.

"What else have you not eaten?" Yuffie asked when they were done.

Thus started the gastronomic tour. Toriko had a bear of a sweet tooth that Sephiroth rarely let her indulge, mostly because he thought she was unmanageable if she had too much sugar. Toriko begged to differ. It wasn't her fault that her father didn't fully appreciate sweets. Candy and confectionary loomed large in Toriko's imagination, probably due to never being able to have any at the age when such things were most appealing. Mid-afternoon found Toriko and Yuffie sitting under a tree, holding their aching stomachs.

"Oh my gawwwd," groaned Yuffie. "Why did we eat so much?"

"I regret nothing," said Toriko, trying to discreely loosen her obi. The fullness was getting oppressive. "Why did you try to keep up with me?"

"Are you kidding? We got to eat gai daan jai, yakgwa, halo halo, taiyaki, taiyaki with ICE CREAM, and ALL the bingtanghulu." Yuffie burped raucously and laughed. "My dad would have a fit. He says I can't have sugar."

"Mine too," said Toriko, and they laughed before lapsing into companionable silence. The branches of the willow tree above them swayed in a perfectly cooling breeze and Toriko felt something leave her. Something she hadn't even known she was carrying. She was sure she wouldn't miss it, whatever it was.

"So why are you in disguise?" asked Yuffie suddenly.

"What?"

"You're all fancy," said Yuffie, gesturing at her. "I didn't say anything at first because I figured you had a reason, but now it's just us. So why are you in disguise?"

"I'm...not in disguise," said Toriko, not sure what Yuffie was thinking. "I'm visiting my aunt."

"Oh? Your Aunt Seishi?"

"Yes," said Toriko. "She's, umm..." Toriko sighed. "She's not doing well."

"Oh," said Yuffie quietly. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," said Toriko, plucking at her sleeve. "She's been sick for a really long time. So... I'm here."

"That sucks," said Yuffie, and as Toriko nodded she said, "I was really sad when my mom died. But you're going to lose your aunt and your dad in the same year, huh?"

Toriko nodded, feeling another pang of guilt. She really hoped Sephiroth was alright. He was strong and valuable and would be kept alive as long as possible, but if she took too much longer to find him, he might not ever forgive her.

"_Well...even if he doesn't, he's got an entire lifetime for me to change his mind."_

"You wanna get something else to eat?"

Toriko stared openmouthed at Yuffie until the younger girl scowled. "What?" Yuffie blustered.

"There's no human way you could digest that quickly," said Toriko.

"Yeah, well, I'm full of surprises," said Yuffie flippantly. Bouncing to her feet, she said, "And there are more to—urk."

Yuffie's face took on an alarming color. Horrified, Toriko attempted to turn her toward the canal before Yuffie vomited spectacularly. Her attempt backfired. Like Sephiroth, Toriko occasionally forgot her strength when alarmed, but instead of making Yuffie the first domino in a supermarket shelf collapse, Toriko accidentally shoved her into the canal.

Actually, it wasn't so much as a shove as a throw. Yuffie, still vomiting, went flying through the air and hit the water with a thunderous splash. Toriko covered her mouth in horror. The canal was wide and Toriko was strong, so Yuffie came up spluttering in the middle of it. Of course it was Yuffie, so she also came up screaming.

"What the hell, Tori-nee?! What did you do that for?!"

"I'm so sorry!" Toriko shouted back. "Hold on, I'll find you something to grab onto!"

A blur out of the corner of her eye made Toriko turn and see a man launching himself into the canal. He disappeared into the water in a long, flat dive and popped up near Yuffie like an otter. He towed the flailing, shrieking princess back to the edge of the canal with ease, ignoring every invective that came out of her mouth. Toriko reached down, tucking her long sleeve out of the way, and offered her hand. He looked at her in surprise, but took it easily enough and gaped in shock as Toriko hauled him effortlessly out of the water.

"Well, no wonder you sent the princess flying," he said with amusement, setting Yuffie down on the ground. Yuffie sputtered and coughed, glaring at Toriko.

"It really was an accident," said Toriko apologetically.

"How is it that every time I see you, I end up in the water?" Yuffie asked sourly. She took off her overshirt and wrung it out. "Anyway. No one looks that horrified when they do stuff on purpose, so I'll accept you're sorry. But that still wasn't cool, Tori-nee."

Toriko looked at the man. He had taken off his shirt and outer robe and was using both to dry Yuffie, who seemed both annoyed and used to the attention. He was superbly muscled and not bad on the eyes, but what really caught Toriko's eye was that he was covered in the brightest, richest tattoos she had ever seen. Red and gold carp threw themselves through swirling waves of blue and white, so beautifully rendered that they seemed to swim over his skin. From his forearms to his neck, he was completely covered in ink except for two wide bars going down his spine and down the front of his chest. Rather than be jarring and divisive, it made the colors pop more.

"That's enough, Staniv," said Yuffie, squirming out of his grasp.

"You're going to catch a cold, princess," he said patiently. "You should come back to the palace and change. Or do you want to walk around in wet shoes all day?"

He glanced up, looking at Toriko strangely, and she averted her eyes to hide her staring. He stood up slowly, following her former line of sight.

"Yes, I'm a former gangster," he said in a voice suffused with long-standing suffering and annoyance. "Yes, I'm loyal to Lord Godo. Yes, I still have all my fingers."

And he held them up for Toriko's inspection.

Toriko was so surprised at his litany that she nearly laughed. She managed to stuff it back, covering her mouth with her sleeve.

"I apologize," she said formally, still not trusting herself to laugh. She fell back on coquettishness since her sleeve was up anyway. "I was so lost in admiring your beautiful artwork that I forgot myself."

Staniv blinked, looking confused. "Oh... Well, thank you."

"If I may, what is the significance?"

"Originally they were flowers," he said, gesturing at the dark waves swirling over his skin. "A sign of loyalty to the old group. But when I came into the Lord's service, I had them covered up. The carp are to remind me of the value of hard work. The water washes everything undesirable away."

"Very poetic," Toriko said sincerely. Truth be told, she was envious. Right now the 00 tattoos on both hands were covered by her sleeves, but she'd never been so aware of how ugly they looked. Something as lovely as the fish and waves, she wouldn't mind having.

"You think the ones on his chest are cool," piped Yuffie, "you should see the ones on his—"

"ALRIGHT, Princess! We're going home!" Staniv half-yelled, a fine blush heating up his cheeks.

"-butt!"

Staniv laughed awkwardly and Toriko clamped her mouth shut to keep herself from cackling. In a strained tone of voice, he said, "I apologize for the behavior of the princess, my lady...?"

"T—Kotori," said Toriko lamely. How could she have not considered this earlier? Kotori? Really?

"_As though _that_ isn't the most transparent fake name ever!"_

Yuffie grinned openly as Staniv bowed. "Lady Kotori, it's been an honor. Unfortunately, the princess and I must take our—"

"She's running," Toriko pointed out as Yuffie rolled her eyes and sprinted away.

"She's—Princess!" Staniv threw a 'why me' glance up to the heavens and rapidly redressed. His clothes only slightly damp, he nevertheless cut an elegant figure in dark blue and dove gray. Toriko estimated he was probably in his early twenties. Bobbing politely to Toriko, he took off after the rapidly disappearing child.

"_What was it that Mother said?"_ Toriko thought bemusedly. _"Spend extravagantly, break hearts..."_

She abruptly realized she hadn't thought about her mother in hours. Guiltily Toriko cast her thought in the general direction of the Blue Lotus. There were lots of people in the way, but even though her mother was not 'talented', there was still a bond between Seishi and Toriko that made finding Seishi's mind very quick. Seishi was still conscious and healthy (well, all things considered), so Toriko decided to continue her day.

She went down to the floating flower markets that Seishi had recommended and marveled at the selection of plants from around the world. There was a canal tour that went up to the palace, so Toriko hopped on and enjoyed the scenery from the river. As much as people complained that Wutai was selling out to the invaders, Toriko appreciated how clean everything was (though it might have been due to peace instead of commercialization; Wutai after the war had been...rough).

The parks were splendid indeed and Toriko particularly enjoyed the Pagoda even though it was not open to the public. The trees around it were filled with cackling magpies, which were the mascots of the Kisaragi family and seemed very appropriate considering Yuffie's behavior. Toriko glanced over at the palace, wondering if Staniv had caught Yuffie and made her change into dry shoes.

It was twilight when Toriko returned to the Blue Lotus, preceded by porters with packages of gifts. There were some presents for the Tuesti family for all the care they'd shown her, a beautiful blue malachite carving of a pantheround for Rufus, and a bolt of dyed silk that Toriko knew would be amazing in Elaine's hands. She felt pleased with herself, if not overwhelmingly happy. And it was nice to get out.

With the aid of the dressers, Toriko changed into a light and comfortable yukata and went to see Seishi in her little house. With every step she took, however, she wondered what she was getting into, or more specifically, who she would be talking to. Toriko sent her thought ahead and found that Seishi's memories were scattered again, but that didn't give her any clue as to her mother's actual state of mind.

"Mother," said Toriko, opening the door to the little house "I'm back. How are you feeling?"

The first thing that Toriko noticed was that there were an awful lot of people in the house. Yoko was there, but so was Tsukiko, Nanashi, and a wizened old woman whom Toriko assumed was the doctor. Seishi was lying on a Continental-style sofa, wearing a plain red robe and holding a pipe. Upside-down and backwards.

"Mother yourself, bitch," she said sharply to Toriko. "And get out of my kimono before I burn it off you. You haven't got the right to wear anything so fine."

Toriko stared. Nanashi started for Toriko, looking worried, but Toriko walked right up to Seishi.

"Who do you think I am?" She asked her mother.

"You're a filthy ainoko," said Seishi with a sneer. "Tell me, how does your mother feel about lying with white devils before it got 'popular'?"

"Does she really talk about ainoko like this when I'm not around?" Toriko asked Nanashi.

"Never," said Nanashi, looking at Seishi with alarm. "This is new. I've never seen this before."

Toriko took a deep breath and sent her thought into her mother's head again, but this time instead of glossing over the information, took a good hard look. Getting in deep made her nervous. The first seven years of her life, Toriko had spent every waking moment in her mother's head, only barely aware she was her own person. With Sephiroth, there were definitely boundaries and a give-and-take in their mental communication, but for Toriko, reading Seishi was like falling into a well.

It was worse than Toriko had feared. Seishi's thought processes were starting to break down, and in lieu of logic and reason, delusions and hallucinations were moving in. The yukata Toriko was wearing was the same color as a hated rival's from twenty years ago, hence the intense hostility. Normally Seishi would have realized that something was off and gone quiet to figure it out, but now her emotions ran near the surface unchecked.

"_Well, let's fight that emotion with some others."_

She gave her mother the memories of their time together. The last two weeks were easiest to bring up, but so steeped in grief and the impending knowledge of her death that Seishi's mind reeled from them. So Toriko tried memories of an earlier time, when she'd been very small, but even then Seishi seemed confused—she wasn't old enough to have a child. Desperately, Toriko reached into her mother's scattered memories and drew her trump card, the thing that had haunted and scarred her mother for years...

…_The men in blue suits flanked Toriko as she left, her small back as straight a soldier's. Somehow she looked forbidding despite her age, but she was still so small. From the top of the stairs, Seishi gritted her teeth against the cry that tried to claw out her throat. This was right. It was for the best. Because nothing was worse than all this for a young girl. Seishi had the okiya and Okaa-San, but the War had broken so many things and no okiya would take an ainoko child, even one as smart as Tori-chan. It was for the best that Toriko never see her mother again..._

In the present, Seishi gasped. Tears began to spill out of her one good eye.

"Mother, you're having a nightmare," said Toriko, her voice as gentle as her mental touch had been forceful. Taking Seishi's thin, skeletal hand in both of hers, Toriko said, "I'm back. And I won't leave, I promise."

"Tori-chan," Seishi gasped, lucidity making her gray iris gleam.

"Yes, Mother?"

"Did I... Did I say anything?" Her hand tightened spasmodically. "Did I do anything to you?"

"Like what, Mother?" Toriko lied perfectly. "I just came back. You were having a nightmare, so I woke you."

Seishi passed her hand over her face. She looked around. Toriko glanced around in her peripheral vision and found that Yoko, Tsukiko, and the doctor had disappeared. "Where are—"

"I had a wonderful day, Mother," said Toriko, drawing Seishi's focus. "Thank you so much."

"I... I'm glad," said Seishi, sinking slowly back onto the couch. Still holding Toriko's hand, she closed her eye and said, "Tell me what you did."

So Toriko talked, being as detailed as she could, and kept on talking until Seishi's shaking mind stilled and ordered itself into the shape Toriko was familiar with. Mentally Toriko wrapped her thoughts around the cracked, fraying, melting pieces, trying to hold them together without crushing them into an unmanageable whole. Seishi would really go mad then. But Toriko could feel the connections dying. It felt like sand was slipping through her fingertips. In the darkness of the house, Toriko let the tears fall from her eyes.

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: happy happy happy WHAM

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I recently came back from a trip overseas, so my mental image of Wutai has been influenced by the old parts of Beijing and the canals of Amsterdam, though there won't be cavalier cyclists in Wutai's streets.

Anyway, I love me some Asian candy and sweet street food, so I had a lot of fun imagining all the delicious food that I made Toriko and Yuffie eat. I recommend you look them up if the terms are unfamiliar. If you live in an area with a high Asian population, you should seek out all the things and eat them. Yes. I have some pictures on the Pinterest board, which you can find on my profile.

But don't eat them all at once. Yuffie is why. I'm sorry Yuffie, but your hurling (ha!) will always be funny to me.

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	13. She said I wasn't good enough

My Vietnam

18 August 2014

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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

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_She said I wasn't good enough_

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The sweet potato had a big burn on it, but Seishi bit off the blackened bit and spit it to the side. "Here," she said to her baby sister. "It's good now."

Shicho took a bite. It was a very serious bite but Seishi couldn't help but smile. Even as thin and dirty as she was, Shicho was still the cutest thing in her life, the only truly bright spot.

They took turns taking bites of the sweet potato. It was spring and nice enough to eat down by the river, under a bridge where Mama and Papa wouldn't find them. Mama wasn't so bad, but Papa would get mad at them for not begging and threaten to sell them to the pimps if he caught them. Seishi knew he was serious, but didn't plan on letting him do it. If Papa tried to sell her—or worse, Shicho—she would kill him.

"It's done, my lady," said Nanashi. Seishi smiled and wrapped her hands around her dragon-headed cane, gripping so hard that her fingers ached.

"Did he suffer?"

"I would say so," said Nanashi dryly. "I dragged him up to Da Chao, broke his arms and legs, and covered him with chocobo blood. The monsters were moving in when I left him, and I heard him screaming halfway down the mountain. Then he stopped, rather abruptly."

"Good gods," said Seishi with a throaty purr of pleasure. "That was better than anything I could have imagined."

"I hate honorless men," said Nanashi with narrowed eyes. Then with a little smile, she added, "Honestly, my lady, it was a pleasure."

Seishi looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. If she was being truly honest with herself, she really was the most beautiful maiko in the current generation, small foxlike eyes notwithstanding. She practiced opening her eyes to a doelike innocence before bursting into laughter. Let her peers play the ingenue. Seishi knew that she was born to be the coquette, with her sharp-angled face and bright, saucy eyes. There were already men lining up to be her danna, the foremost of which was Lord Shusaku no Kanten. He was less than ideal from a physical standpoint, but he was rich, wholly infatuated, and rather influential at court, which meant Seishi would go to royal parties. And from there, who knew? Maybe she would attract a first-tier noble, if not Prince Godo himself.

"The Lord is doing what he must," said Seishi to Suzu. The geisha was less than pleased with Lord Godo, but a lot of traditionalists were. "You know I don't approve of his direction either, but it doesn't do us any good to insult his course of action."

"This isn't Midgar," said Suzu, shaking her head. "We're allowed to criticize our leaders here, or at least our figurehead leaders."

"Have a care with what you say about our Lord," said Seishi. "Especially considering that without his grant, we would not be in business the way we are."

"Catering to foreigners and ignorant peasants," Suzu all but spat. "You may have a certain standard, my lady, but this physically pains me."

"You have a rather high tolerance for pain, don't you?"

Seishi stayed quiet. Fellow captives had told her never to meet the Demon's eyes, but Seishi resisted their advice. She held tight to her soul and looked him full in the face, meeting his burning emerald gaze as he studied her from the doorway. He'd risen a rank or two; this was his private room. Definitely a step up from the shed in his eyes, though to Seishi it was all the same.

"A lot of the men say that you people don't actually feel pain," he said, stepping toward her. His boot heels should have hit hard on the wooden floor, but she only heard the creak of the floorboards. She continued to stare at him, which made him glare. He was so young to be so cruel. The part of her that cracked weak minds like walnuts made her wonder what had broken him so badly, and if she could hurt him before he could hurt her.

"They lie, of course," he said. "The men. And the women too. We all know very well that you feel pain, but you... You don't ever scream, do you?"

Screaming was something one did to draw a rescuer to you. There weren't any in this place. Screaming was also empowering, but there was nothing to salvage from this situation. And finally, screaming gave the Demon satisfaction, and if there was one thing Seishi had left in all this, it was her vindictiveness. Not pride, just the sheer perverse drive to never give anybody what they wanted.

"You don't have to be ashamed," he said, coming up to her. The Demon insisted that all his women be clean and Seishi's skin still steamed faintly in the climate-controlled air. She wore no clothes; what was the point? Her eyes flicked to the side as he picked up a lock of her hair and studied it. "Everybody screams sometime. It's a natural reaction."

He tore her hair out. Seishi froze, forcing her entire body to lock as he ripped an inch-wide section of her hair off her scalp as easily as pulling a ribbon. His cat-like pupils dilated, then went back to normal size as she exhaled and continued to look at him. She could feel the blood running down the side of her head, her scalp throbbing with agony.

"_I've had worse," _she told herself sternly. _"And I'll live through losing hair."_

"You're not impressing anyone," he said, twining the bloody lock around his fingers. "Least of all me."

"Then why am I back here again?" asked Seishi evenly. "Are you that fond of me?"

"Fond of trash? Please," he said with a sneer. "All I see is a whore in every sense of the word. And you're very good at what you do. I'll give you that much."

He was very broken, but not so much that he could look her in the eyes when he did what he wanted. Seishi fought to breathe as he held her head in the pillow, but the struggle to live didn't distract from what was going on. It was hard to ignore. Like everything else he did, the campaign he wreaked on her body was one of pure power and terror, but Seishi was not an army. She was not a warrior either, with brittle pride instead of a backbone. She was herself. And she knew how to make the Demon actually lose control, even if it killed her. Her death would be quite the punctuation mark of his breakdown.

He eased his grip on her head when he shuddered to halt, and Seishi waited a few moments until his breathing had become relaxed. Then she swallowed, licked her lips, and said,

"I don't scream because I'm not weak like you."

He stood up abruptly and flipped her over. She landed half on and half off the bed, the scab on her head breaking open as she banged her head on the wall. As Seishi turned to see what the Demon was doing, he took off his long coat and mail shirt and threw them on the floor. His eyes were flashing with miniature lightning and though his face looked calm, Seishi could feel madness radiating from him. She couldn't stop herself from gasping as he reached into his desk and pulled out a knife.

"Let's see if you live," he said in a flat voice. "And tell me, if you survive, how I'm weak again."

"My love, wake up."

The Demon stepped toward her, his free hand reaching for her hair again. Seishi tried to shrink into the corner, her vision collapsing to the point of the blade coming for her.

"Wake up."

He grabbed her hair and forced her onto her back. Seishi struck at his face with jagged nails, but he didn't even flinch. And she saw the wounds close before her eyes, before he lowered his knife to her right eyeball.

"Seishi, wake up."

A blinding shock of pain reverberated through her head, making her eyes—both eyes—snap open. It was dark. The air was warm, not cold. Dimly Seishi realized she wasn't where she thought she was, but didn't feel herself in this other place yet. Someone was touching her hair and speaking softly. It was her husband, kneeling at the edge of the bed and brushing her gently with his knuckles. They knew from past experience that if he tried to embrace her or touch her with the front of his hand, she would start screaming.

"You're safe," he said softly. "You're not there anymore. You're here with me. I'm turning on the light."

The light always helped. Seishi let a breath heavy with fear rattle from her lips as Godo lit the oil lamp and filled the room with a warm, living glow. No harsh fluorescents. No burning green light. She took a deep and shuddering breath, fighting to exhale as it caught in her throat. She concentrated on breathing until the nightmare disappeared and the bedroom she'd been sleeping in for the past twelve years finally came into focus.

"I'm sorry," she said when she could speak again. Turning stiffly (her entire body always locked up with the nightmares), she said, "It's been such a long time. I can't imagine why I'd have one tonight."

Godo chuckled. He was very fit for fifty, with graying hair that was dignified and still full, and despite all the delicacies available to him, he had not put on any fat. In fact, he was even more handsome than the first time they'd met, he as a prince and she as a maiko. Oh, he had been such a gentleman, almost as good at entertaining as Seishi had been, and though he had a bit of a horse laugh and a lot of mischief in him, he was still a true prince. Seishi once again sent a prayer of thanks to Da Chao that this particular dream had come true.

"My love, you have nightmares when you're happy," he said.

"That makes no sense."

"It makes perfect sense," he said, climbing back onto the bed with her. The royal bed was raised, though not as ridiculously tall as a Continental bed; they had enough room that they didn't need to fold the futons up every morning. "You're not used to being happy. Your subconscious suspects a trap."

"I suppose," she said grudgingly. "Still, it seems a bad omen on the eve of Tori-chan's wedding."

"I don't see how, unless he managed to come back from the dead," said Godo dryly. Seishi laughed despite the lingering traces of fear. Godo would know better than anyone about the Demon's death, having stabbed him through the heart in decisive single combat. Just the memory of the despair in that silver-haired bastard's dying eyes sent warmth through her veins.

"Everything will be fine," said Godo, gathering Seishi in his arms. She breathed deeply of his scent; vaguely musky, he smelled of his favorite hempseed soap and the camellia oil he used to polish his weaponry. A wave of pure relaxation rolled over her, nearly putting her to sleep. "Our daughter is going to have a wonderful wedding to a man she loves, and if he hurts her, I'll behead him."

"You say the sweetest things," Seishi murmured.

Secure in the arms of her one true love, Seishi woke up the next day with only the mildest of unease. Her right eye was itching like crazy, but pressing a cold cloth to her face relieved it. It was going to be a very long day, so Seishi ate poached quail eggs and sturgeon roe while the dressers did her hair and makeup. As the mother of the bride, her kimono would display the full magnificence available to a married woman; meanwhile Yuffie would be wearing the height of fashion for a single girl. And Toriko...

The Kisaragi shiromuku was a national treasure, snow white and in perfect condition despite being over a hundred years old. Seishi had worn it herself when she'd married Godo and she remembered the weight of the lavishly embroidered silk, the exquisite fan of the padded train. It would not be as long on Toriko since she was tall, but still long enough to inspire the dreams of every girl with an eye for such things. Toriko was wearing a tsunokakushi instead of the traditional hood to show off the Kisaragi kanzashi, which were made of pure gold and studded with chips of materia instead of gems. And her uchikake, which would be revealed at the reception, was a dream in scarlet ombre shading to black at the bottom, covered with embroidered flowers from every season. Oh, it was a fine garment that had taken two whole years to make, but in that time Toriko's arranged marriage to Lord Staniv had turned from miai to ren'ai, and that was all Seishi had ever hoped for. Marrying for love and money was infinitely better than money alone.

Seishi's right leg nearly gave out on her as she walked to the palanquin that would take them to the shrine, but it had been years since she'd worn such a heavy (though admittedly gorgeous) susohiki. As she settled herself in the carriage, a courtier came to her and gave her a message from Godo. She thanked him and read it on the way to Leviathan's Pagoda.

_My dear wife,_

_How nostalgic this seems! I'm sweltering in my robes, but I saw a glimpse of you as you entered your palanquin and I felt quite cold—nervous, as though we two were the ones being married! I'm confident that Toriko's marriage will be wonderful, but I think ours will always be the best. Definitely to me._

_Love,_

_Godo_

The ceremony before Leviathan was suitably somber, but somehow Seishi and Godo managed to hold hands as they watched Toriko take the customary three cups of sake with Staniv. Seishi once again studied her incumbent son-in-law and found no flaws, which pleased her greatly. She was already looking forward to well-formed grandchildren. Toriko was as delicate as a young reed, with beautiful large gray eyes like her father's, but she was also just curvy enough that giving birth would not be an ordeal. Seishi hoped for at least two babies in as many years to play with.

The reception was lavish, almost legendary in its spread. Seishi had conferred with the chefs on every dish in the nine-course meal, down to the sides and garnishes. She didn't _tell_ them what to do since she knew she wasn't the best cook, but Seishi made it clear what sorts of flavors and feeling she wanted, and the cooks delivered spectacularly. Servers brought out nine-sectioned platters filled with the freshest and most colorful of foods, and bubbling copper hotpots that steamed with perfumed charcoal and gleamed in a bed of julienned meats and vegetables. There were miles of noodles (rice, bean, wheat, and more), oceans of broth, and every guest had their own bowl of shark fin soup. Each member of the royal family had thirty-four dishes to tempt the palate, each perfectly proportioned so no one would become over-full. The air was heavy with the scent of a hundred different spirits, including one vintage that Seishi and Godo shared between just themselves—it was what they'd had on their wedding day.

Seishi frequently looked up at Toriko, who seemed to have a perpetual blush and a smile for her husband. He seemed just as enchanted with her. It was all perfect, until Seishi picked up a piece of what she thought was fish and instead found herself holding a piece of rotten flesh.

She gasped aloud and dropped the food. It turned to a piece of golden fried fish before it even hit the plate.

"My love, what's wrong?" Godo asked, leaning over toward her.

"...Nothing," said Seishi, staring down at the fish. She couldn't believe that it was safe to eat. And before her eyes, the golden oden turned brown, then black, shriveling and suppurating into a dark purple. A hideous smell like rotting flesh hit her like a hammer. The beautiful food before her melted into black goo and started to bubble and hiss.

"Mother."

Seishi pushed herself away from the table and stood up abruptly. All around her, people were still eating happily as their own food turned to melting flesh and black fluid. Seishi swayed, nauseous and unbalanced.

"Mother!"

She turned and took a step, but pain shot through her hips. With a cry, Seishi tripped and fell to the ground. Her hands hit the floor with a wet slap and she surged back in horror as blood seeped up from the floor.

"Mother!"

Seishi turned. The wedding feast was gone. Godo was gone. Toriko was running toward her, her wedding finery shedding off her like old skin. For a hideous moment Seishi thought that she too was melting, but her clothing darkened and reformed, sticking to her like a second skin. Her eyes were terrifyingly green.

"...What happened?" Seishi asked breathlessly.

Toriko reached her, panting. She was younger than Seishi had just seen, but the same height. Seishi remembered with a pang that Toriko's real father was taller than Godo.

"Your mind was wandering," said Toriko, lifting her head. "And that flashback you had about F—the Demon, it was literally frightening you to death." Toriko shook her head and said, "I couldn't let you go like that."

"What are you saying?" Seishi asked suspiciously. "You can control my mind?"

"No," said Toriko. "It's... It's more like a river. I can install locks and change the flow if I have time, but if you question it, I can't—"

"So you are controlling my mind!"

"No!"

"How long have you been doing this?"

Toriko opened her mouth and shut it. With a sigh she said, "Mother, I've never controlled a single thing you've thought or done. But I've had the ability all my life."

"How?" Seishi shook her head sharply as the gears clicked into place. "It's from _him_, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mother."

A great many little things suddenly began to make sense. Toriko's solemnness and obedience as a child, her incredible sensibility, her talent when it came to picking up new skills when taught by other people...

"Mother, I'm the same child you've known all your life," said Toriko as Seishi took a step back. She sounded very tired.

"Why are you telling me this now?" Seishi demanded. "Instead of years ago?"

"Would you have believed me?"

"Answer my question."

"Didn't I just?"

"Did you?" Seishi fired back.

Toriko folded her arms. She looked very stubborn and adult.

"I want to go back to consciousness, or reality, or whatever you want to call it," said Seishi. "You do have some control over that, don't you?"

"Yes," said Toriko. "But you're going to go back to pain and misery and dementia. This way..." Toriko shrugged. "You can do whatever you want. And moments here last a lot longer than in the other place."

"But it's not true."

"So?"

"So I have never run from the truth in my life, Toriko, and I will not start on my deathbed."

Toriko's expression didn't change, but the formless black space seemed to shudder. Seishi jumped, but in the momentary flash of fear, she suddenly realized something.

"I'm dying right now, aren't I?"

"...yes, Mother," said Toriko softly, lowering her eyes.

"That's why you're telling me all this. Because... In a few moments, it won't matter."

Toriko nodded silently, her face tight.

Seishi closed her eye. She felt physically fine, better than she had in years. If she didn't force herself to remember what had happened, she felt sixteen again. Dying now seemed laughable and impossible.

"I wish I could make you better," said Toriko in a voice barely above a whisper. As Seishi looked at her, she said, "I wish I could actually cure you. I keep reading about medicine and science and there's just nothing like what you have. Nothing even close. So all I can do is make you comfortable."

"My sweet child, this is not what you are supposed to do," said Seishi, her chest aching with love and pity. "Fluff a pillow or put a cool towel on my head. Drug me, even. Don't escort me to death with a customized daydream."

"I just want you to be happy," said Toriko, bowing her head. "You know, Mother, I was really glad I was in your dream. I thought if you had the chance..."

"I have told you, you are the only good thing that came out of that," Seishi said. "I wouldn't erase your existence for anything."

Toriko sniffled. Seishi walked to her (ignoring the impossibility of doing so on one leg) and hugged her daughter. Toriko was as stiff as a board, but she'd always gone frozen whenever Seishi had embraced her.

"Tori-chan," she said. "Show me a dream of yours. I want to be happy with you."

Toriko gasped, a little sob escaping her throat. Strong little arms wrapped around Seishi's back, nearly crushing her with long-repressed emotion. For the first time in her life, Seishi understood what Toriko was actually feeling and the reality of it made her heart break.

"I have never hated you," she whispered to Toriko as the black space around them began to lighten and change shape. "Never."

/\/\/\

Seishi opened her eyes. She was peculiarly conscious now, aware that she was dreaming and yet surrounded by things that felt very real. She was in an office not unlike her own in the Blue Lotus, with a low desk and a deep cushion for a seat. But this office had two glass walls that looked out over the ocean, and the landscape was decidedly not Wutaiese. A name popped into her mind; Junon.

Seishi looked down at herself. Her hands were unmarked by ugly disease and when she patted her face, she had both eyes. She was wearing a strange garment that was definitely Continental, but evoked traditional Wutaiese lines in the seams and silhouette. There wasn't a mirror in this office, but there was a reflection off the glass. Seishi stood and walked over to the window, nearly tripping in heeled Continental shoes covered with patterned chirimen silk.

The woman looking back at her was tall, graceful, supremely healthy, and her fashion and makeup was somehow an effortlessly chic combination of Continental and Wutaiese styles. Upon seeing her reflection, new information came to her mind. She was Seishi Kurama, Continental Liaison, appointed by Lord Godo himself to facilitate good relations with foreigners. Her training as a geisha had served her well indeed, though her natural intelligence was what allowed her to succeed beyond all expectations.

"_But what about the War?"_

The War had never happened. Between Seishi's abilities and that of her Continental counterpart, the Shin-Ra Company had never gained enough traction to encourage conflict. Hundreds of people were still alive. Wutai was as strong and proud as ever, but more open to the world, which meant there were less superstitions, less stereotyping, and a lot more respect.

"_What an elaborate dream this is,"_ Seishi thought, very amused.

A noise happened, and Seishi simultaneously knew and did not know what it was. Since it came from her pocket, she reached in and pulled out a PHS, which was flashing a notification. "Lunch with T & S", it said.

"_S can only be one person..."_

Seishi was not looking forward to what was going to happen next, but she had a certain morbid curiosity.

She let go of a certain amount of conscious thought and watched herself leave the office, hail a taxi, and disembark at a restaurant whose lack of ocean views were compensated with a lovely garden instead. It was full but not overly busy, and to Seishi's surprise the clientele seemed equally split between Continentals, Wutaiese, and a variety of other peoples. And yet as distracting as the diversity was, her eyes immediately went to a long fall of instantly recognizable silver hair. He was sitting with his back to her.

Seishi steeled herself for the inevitable surge of fear and hatred, but instead she felt nothing. Wait, that wasn't true. She felt mild annoyance. Very mild. Because he had gotten there first.

"_Well, it would ruin Toriko's dream if I felt the way I actually do... I can endure a bit of emotional trimming for a time, I suppose."_

Seishi walked over to where Sephiroth was sitting and took a seat at the table. There were three chairs but Toriko was not present. He was looking at a menu, but put it down to look at her.

Seishi studied Toriko's version of Sephiroth carefully. The cruel expression that haunted her nightmares was gone, replaced with a cool scrutiny that mirrored her own. He was a grown man now, probably in his early thirties to mid-thirties, and he had grown into the intimidating promise of his boyhood frame. Seishi could admit that he cut a nice figure in a black suit and a white, high-collared shirt that he wore slightly unbuttoned and without a tie. For the first time in her life, the sight of Sephiroth's bright green eyes did not evoke instant and overwhelming fear.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," said Seishi, since she'd arrived after them.

"We only just arrived," he said. His voice was deeper than she remembered and had an edge of roughness that was semi-appealing. "How's work?"

"Same as usual," said Seishi, since she had no idea what work was actually like in this daydream. "Yourself?"

"Same," he said.

More than anything else, the fact that she could sit with Sephiroth and make small talk convinced Seishi of Toriko's strange abilities.

"_I wonder how far they go..."_

"The other day..." said Seishi carefully. "I was thinking about how we met."

"_Now feed me the information I want, dream-Demon."_

To her surprise, Sephiroth chuckled. He was very handsome when he was being human, though what he said next was a total surprise. "Publicly or otherwise?"

"Otherwise," said Seishi, figuring they'd probably seen each other in her dream's official capacity. Even with no war, a man of his abilities would have been drafted into some martial capacity, probably as a bodyguard to President Shin-Ra. She didn't care about that. In her dream, how did Toriko want to be conceived?

Seishi wasn't sure how to feel when Sephiroth smirked and then tried to hide it by drinking his coffee. She look at his expression very closely and decided he was pleased and a bit embarrassed to be talking about this subject in public. Now her curiosity was afire.

"Was it that bad for you?" She asked finally when Sephiroth didn't forward new information.

"Not at all," he said, looking quite surprised and for an instant, very young. Then his expression changed into an adult's calculation and Seishi nearly laughed as he attempted to look suave. "As far as one night stands go, it was...fairly decent."

"...Fairly decent," Seishi repeated, torn between hilarity and incredulity. Apparently Toriko had a very warped sense of humor.

"Four out of five stars," said Sephiroth, sounding pleased with himself. "One star off for 'no strings attached' not working out."

"_And now it becomes clear where she gets it from,"_ thought Seishi wryly.

"I'm sorry," said Seishi aloud, smiling. "Next time, you can carry the baby."

He looked nonplussed at that, which made Seishi actually laugh. She wondered if Toriko was making this expression up or if Sephiroth did look that confused when he was actually taken aback.

"Where is Toriko?" Seishi asked, looking around. At that moment she saw Sephiroth's eyes flick to look over her shoulder and Seishi turned in her chair to look. There was Toriko in a fawn-colored gown trimmed with creamy ivory lace, and she looked happy indeed. There was a flicker of uncertainty as she looked at Seishi, but it slid off her face as she came to the table.

"Hello, parents," she said, sounding happy indeed.

"Hello daughter," said Sephiroth.

Seishi reached for Toriko, intending to give her hand a squeeze, but to her surprise, Toriko hugged her. It was not suffocatingly tight but instead heavy with pleasure.

They had lunch and talked. Seishi quickly determined that Sephiroth and Toriko had come to Junon because it was summer break for school, and while Sephiroth had Toriko for most of the year, she habitually spent the entirety of summer break and all major holidays with Seishi. This was a new arrangement, starting with Toriko's acceptance to Waverly Academy. Prior to that, she had gone to school in Wutai and lived with Seishi, with Sephiroth making trips out twice a year to be with her. It was a peculiar relationship all around, since Sephiroth and Seishi were definitely not married and never intended to marry. In the real world Seishi could see a hundred reasons why this sort of arrangement wouldn't work, but in Toriko's dream, it was just perfect.

"_It could be stranger," _thought Seishi. _"If her dream was to have the two of us happily in love, I think I would be very worried about her mental state."_

Seishi watched the interaction between Sephiroth and Toriko closely. Though she knew this was Toriko's dream and that she was probably making things perfect for herself, Toriko and Sephiroth interacted very familiarly, more so than Toriko and Seishi ever had. They quipped at each other, stole off each other's plates, and once Sephiroth flicked a straw wrapper at her when she was being too pert. When Toriko said 'Father', there was no self-imposed formality in her voice. Seishi had gotten used to it a long time ago, but hearing Toriko's voice without it made her heart hurt a little.

Lunch ended. Sephiroth gave Toriko a peck on the head before excusing himself; he had to go to work. Meanwhile Seishi checked her calendar and realized that her schedule was empty.

"So what would you like to do now?" She asked her daughter.

"I want to go to the festival with you," said Toriko.

"Festival?"

"The Spring Tide Festival," said Toriko. "On the beach."

So they went. Seishi had to really suspend her disbelief, because the Spring Tide Festival was very much like the Festival of Fairies, except there were some obvious Continental substitutions for Wutaiese traditions. Instead of Dragon's Beard, Seishi and Toriko ate cotton candy, and there were fire spinners instead of dancers. They had unlimited money and bought and ate whatever they wanted, never feeling full or running out of anything. At some point Toriko changed from a fourteen-year-old into a seven-year-old child, dressed in a beautiful pink-checked yukata with blue flowers on it. Seishi didn't comment on the change. It was unimportant in the face of Toriko's joy, their shared laughter over silly things, and how the best moments lasted like the sweetness of fresh peaches.

At last the dream-evening grew dark and little Toriko grew tired. Seishi held her hand as they left the beach and took the stairs back up to the upper level. Again Seishi let the dream guide her and they walked to her house, which was a very grand affair. Trailing blue flowers covered the top of a marble-sheathed wall that went around the perimeter of the property, and the house itself was like a Continental take on a Wutaiese castle, except classy and not garish. Honey-colored wood constrasted against polished stone that went about a third of the way up the house, and glass windows seemed to make up most of the walls. The garden was a masterwork of Wutaiese aesthetics, complete with sweet tea olive trees and a small pond filled with expensive koi.

"Did you have a nice time, Tori-chan?" Seishi asked her yawning daughter.

"Uh-huh," said little Toriko with a nod. "Mommy..."

Seishi gasped. Toriko had never called her 'Mommy' in her entire life.

"Love you," she said, almost offhand.

"I love you too, Tori-chan," said Seishi. She picked up Toriko and carried her into the house. Peripherally she noticed it was getting very, very dark, too dark to be explained by a simple change in moonlight. The edges of the dream were starting to lose shape. Seishi shoved away the fear starting to flutter in her chest and instead took Toriko up to her bedroom. The futon was already laid out on the floor and covered with the richest, softest blankets Seishi had ever seen. What a beautiful resting place Toriko had come up with.

She pulled the blankets back, lingering on their weight and the way they felt in her hands. They were even softer than silk. Seishi climbed into the bed and pulled Toriko up to her. Toriko was almost asleep and Seishi had to stop herself from shaking her child awake. Dream-Toriko was exhausted, but Toriko in the real world was no doubt even more tired. Sustaining a beautiful dream like this couldn't be easy and she was working so hard to make this moment last; Seishi couldn't bring herself to force Toriko to do more.

Seishi drew the silk blankets over them and settled next to her daughter, touching her forehead to Toriko's. She touched Toriko's soft little cheek and her hair. The world beyond their bed turned to black, but Seishi breathed deeply and was at peace.

"Goodnight, Tori-chan," whispered Seishi.

"Goodnight, Mommy," came the whispered reply of a fourteen-year-old.

Seishi closed her eyes. It was warm, comfortable, and painless. She fell asleep.

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: I need to take a two week break after writing this. Thanks for understanding. In the meantime, my deviantArt account (found on my profile) has been updated with two pieces of PYLO/MYV-related art. I think you would be amused if you looked at them. And I would be amused if you left feedback or commentary, because I've been thinking about doing a longform webcomic.

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	14. EXTRA: Seventh SOLDIER sidestory

My Vietnam

21 September 2014

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This is a FFVII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVII canon because this is an alternate universe fic (in case you haven't figured that out already.) That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

"My Vietnam" (henceforth shortened to MYV) is a continuation of "Put Your Lights On" (PYLO), but it is not necessary to have read PYLO before reading this story. Whenever PYLO-specific events are referenced, the pertinent chapter will be indexed in the author's note.

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Seventh SOLDIER

/\/\/\/\/\ 

It was very hard for SOLDIERS of any class to kill themselves, which meant that the ones who wanted to had to get creative. And if one was a medic, one could be creative indeed. Zenri's method was very simple and almost elegant in its effectiveness. He put a grenade in his mouth, tied a piece of twine from the pin to the door, and then threw his fully packed kit at the door hard enough to shut it. It was like yanking a tooth. Or it would have been, if Dulles hadn't seen the open door, gone to shut it, and felt unusual resistance when he pulled. When he looked in, the kit was already flying. He saw the twine and the metallic glint of the grenade in Zenri's mouth, purple light glinting off the pineappled surface and gleaming in the teartracks down Zenri's dark face.

So Dulles threw the door open, dodged the kit, and then tackled Zenri before he could pull the pin manually.

Now Zenri was sedated courtesy of Deepground, and Director Genesis assured Dulles that Zenri would be taken care of and put into some therapy. Dulles nodded, but he privately felt it wasn't going to do much. Zenri was a sensible guy and would wake up wondering what the hell he'd tried to do, just like he had during the war. Somewhere a god was laughing, because Zenri's compulsions to save people and end himself were like two dragons fighting for control all the time.

In Zenri's defense, he didn't usually try to kill himself unless something fairly horrible happened. The last time he'd tried to kill himself was during the war, when the CO at the time had flat-out told him he was not allowed to mercy-kill any of the interrogated prisoners. Having sensitive hearing even for a SOLDIER, Zenri later told Dulles that he had literally heard every one of the interrogated POW's breathe their rattling last, and sure they were the enemy and they had information, but there was no reason to let them suffer so badly when everything was done. Back then, Zenri had tried to commit suicide the Wutaiese way, and both Sephiroth (he wasn't the General then, just squad commander) and Dulles had scars from snatching the blades away from him. It took a bit of talking, but that night the three of them went to the POW camp and Sephiroth and Dulles stood guard while Zenri gave an honorable death to anybody who asked. The base commander had been **furious,** but he'd never figured out who'd done it.

When Dulles went back to the Garrison, the rest of the guys were there. Dulles automatically counted, came up two short, and sighed. Zenri of course was in Deepground. And Zack...

"_What the hell did you encounter, kid? I don't believe it was AVALANCHE for a second. Between you and the General, you could have burned down whatever came at you."_

Zack was the only member of the Seventh that had joined up after the War. Dulles then wondered if it was a good thing he wasn't with them now. He never would have understood what Zenri was going through, and in the way that young, well-meaning people had, he probably would have said something stupid and got his face broken. Dulles sighed; better a broken face than dead.

"How's he, Cappy?" Papo asked, subdued. It was a measure of his upset that his cultivated Midgarian accent was slipping, going back to the rounder, more sing-songy tones of his native del Solian.

"Sleeping," said Dulles. Looking at his men, he asked, "Does anybody know what set him off?"

"Corel," said Yard, his brown eyes almost dark.

"Coral?"

"No, Corel. His hometown." Yard's lips thinned. "Army investigators came by and asked if he knew anything about the 'terrorist plot to destroy the Corel reactor'." As Dulles sucked air over his teeth, Yard's face got grimmer and he added, "Apparently the regular army got sent out to deal with the mess. The entire town is gone."

"Oh my god," Fenwick groaned, covering his face. "His family?"

"All gone. He tried calling for hours, but you know Director H's 'total warfare' policy."

It was hard to breathe past the heavy lump in his chest, but Dulles managed. "Who else knows about this?" He asked.

"The entire base," said Yard, his expression as ugly as his voice was calm. "They asked him during mess."

"Those fucking idiots!" Adrian exploded.

"Yeah," said Yard. "And then Cruciani makes some crack about Zenri being 'different from all the thugs and terrorists', since he's part of the Company and all."

Cruciani was a Third, and a relentless suckup who had the weird idea that impressing Seconds and Firsts would get him to the next level. Complementing his desperate drive to get ahead was a sense of humor that always tried too hard. This wasn't the first time he'd pissed someone off, which oddly enough just made him try harder.

"And what happened to Cruciani?" Dulles asked evenly.

"Well, the doctor says he'll be fine...eventually," said Yard with a sideways mouth-twitch that would have normally been a smile. "I swear they don't make Thirds like they used to. We only put him through _two_ walls."

"His fault," said Fenwick firmly. "If he spent more time conditioning and less time kissing ass—"

Papo cut them all off. "What can we can do for Z, Cappy?"

Dulles didn't know what to say. The swirling, savage mood over the rest of the squad puffed into smoke as everyone mulled over their options and their helplessness.

"We don't know how long he'll be in there," said Dulles finally. "So let's just do what he'd want. No one talks shit about Corel or his family around us, at the very least. If there's problems, come to me."

"Do we need to make any calls?" Papo asked.

"Does he have family outside of there?" Adrian asked.

"I don't think he does," said Yard, shaking his head. "I mean, unless his brother-in-law was out of town or something, but Myrna's so sick that he can't leave for long."

"Oh my god," moaned Fenwick. "We're never going to taste her sweet potato pie again."

"Or that chicken rub," said Adrian, going pale.

"You're talking about food?" Yard demanded, his face going red. "Now?"

"They were family recipes," said Dulles as Fenwick, Adrian, and Yard started glaring at each other. "And Zenri shared them with us because we're his brothers. Which means our sister is dead, and remembering her or her cooking isn't a bad thing at all."

The three Seconds dropped their gazes to the ground. Dulles closed his eyes. He could almost smell that pie, shipped overnight and frozen solid so all Zenri had to do was pop it in the oven and share it out. His bright purple eyes would glow so bright with pride when he brought it out, and there would be fights every year when opportunists from other squads tried to steal a bite or the whole thing. Then Zenri would spend hours on the phone talking to his mom and dad, because he didn't go back but once a year during the halfway point between their birthdays. And a year ago, Zenri and his brother-in-law Barret had been on the phone nearly every day for a week as Barret asked him questions about Mako reactors, if they were safe, and if Corel should have one.

Papo glanced around Dulles's side.

"Can we see him, Cappy?" He asked.

"Sure," said Dulles, stepping aside and gesturing at the entrance to Deepground. "For all the good it'll do."

"You just said we're his brothers, sir," said Fenwick, going for the door. "We should be there."

They went to Zenri's room. Dulles brought up the rear, the heaviness in his chest becoming worse with every step. This couldn't have happened at a worse time. Director Heidegger overused SOLDIERS whenever he could, and the entire branch was being restructured. In two weeks, the Seventh would be no more. Dulles was _supposed_ to tell his guys where their next assignment was, but...

Zack was gone. Sephiroth was gone. And now Zenri, their sensitive brother, was down.

The guys went to see Zenri as he lay drugged asleep. Dulles stood out in the hall and looked at all of them standing together for what felt like the last time.

/\/\/\/\/\

a/n: The best laid outlines often explode in the face of careful examination, so have a bonus while I figure out the real direction of the story.

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End file.
